


The Shrouded Path

by Arcawolf



Series: Devil in the Mirror [1]
Category: Kingdom Hearts, Silent Hill
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angst, Crossover, Dark, Gen, Horror, Psychological Horror, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-22
Updated: 2013-09-10
Packaged: 2017-12-15 17:57:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 32
Words: 108,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/852390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arcawolf/pseuds/Arcawolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What started as a routine mission becomes a nightmare when Ven disappears. After tracing his path to a strange town, Aqua and Terra find themselves ensnared by a power darker than any they could have imagined. It will take everything they have just to escape intact.</p>
<p>Knowledge of Silent Hill not required</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, first fic I'm posting on this site. If I got the tags wrong, please correct me. There are some AU elements in play here, mostly with the backstory of the characters. For simplicity's sake, only assume that Aqua, Terra, Ven and Eraqus have the same backstories they do in the games.

By all means, this should have been over by now.

It was a simple mission: search the world and report back to Master Eraqus. Specifically, they were looking for Master Xehanort, who had vanished with his apprentice in the lonely little world that Terra stood upon now. Well, assuming they hadn't just packed up and left. The Master had said that Xehanort was difficult to track, but he'd asked Aqua, Ven and Terra to take a look around anyways while he checked in with Master Yen Sid.

Terra sighed. By all reason, they should have been home. They'd done what Eraqus had asked and came to the conclusion that wherever Xehanort was, this wasn't it. It was good timing too, as Terra was starting to miss his bed. But no, _someone_ had to get a hunch and run off in the middle of the night, and that same someone had left them with only a note to follow.

"And we're sure he wasn't sleepwalking again?" Terra asked.

"Pretty sure, yes," Aqua said. "Ven doesn't leave us anything when he does."

Terra gritted his teeth. By the love of all that was holy, he was going to _murder_ Ven.

"Maybe he's onto something, Terra," Aqua said when he voiced that thought. "He does notice more than you give him credit for."

"Enough to leave us in the middle of nowhere?"

Aqua smiled. "Well, you know how he is."

He considered that, and decided he was still going to kill Ven.

A small bird crossed in front of them, disappearing into the fog as he and Aqua continued down their path. Although it was still morning and the sun appeared to be out, the fog was so thick that one could have easily mistaken it for night. Ahead of him, the ground was dimly lit for a few feet before fading into white, and to his left he could only see the edge of the mountainous path they tread. Occasionally, a footprint could be found as well, the only thing keeping them on Ven's trail. The younger boy had tried to draw them a map, however, Aqua and Terra found that it somehow went in circles after ten minutes or so. Luckily, Ven's footprints differed from the world's inhabitants, especially since he had been wearing armour.

That in itself was odd, Terra reflected, and along with the hurriedly-drawn map, it had been the source of Aqua's earlier distress. But then she'd remembered that Ven had once run off in the Pride Lands to play with the lion cubs, and then again in Atlantica to race the mermen, and once in Agrabah for reasons unknown. Half the time he did something like that, he got into trouble and required Terra and Aqua to bail him out. Really, they should be used to this.

His steps echoed. Apart from Aqua who stood faithfully at his shoulder, he hadn't seen anyone in a while. Not since the last town they'd passed through, where the residents had never heard or seen Xehanort. No one had. Terra suspected that he had never been here in the first place.

"I'll put rocks in Ven's shoes," he suggested savagely. "That'll keep him in one place."

"He can take them out."

He shrugged. "Then I'll just use Magnet to hold him."

Aqua gave him the tiniest look of disbelief, and he scowled. True, he wasn't great with magic, but that didn't mean he couldn't cast a simple spell. He had an urge to prove it with a well-aimed Fire spell at her hair . . . only Aqua would then counter with something worse. And Terra was not in the mood to be on the receiving end of her creativity. He settled for shooting a fireball ahead instead.

They were silent as it became a small black dot in the distance. "It didn't chase away any of the fog," Aqua finally said.

"Was it supposed to?"

"I don't know."

Terra tried to think about it, but found the answer wasn't particularly clear to him. He also had no desire to ask Aqua to explain, so he passed his answer off with what he hoped sounded like a thoughtful grunt. It probably didn't work though because Aqua suddenly smiled.

Terra tried to draw attention away from his blush by elaborately stretching and crossing his arms behind his head. Moments like that always made him feel awkward, particularly when Aqua was involved. Ven hardly ever stopped smiling, so Terra had grown used to that. With Aqua, while she too smiled a lot, there was something different that made Terra both grow embarrassed and yearn to see her smile again. It was probably something he'd picked up from the Master.

Terra was still staring straight ahead and so, could only see the fog. That didn't stop him from knowing that Aqua had stopped. Years of training together had given him an intuitive sense of where she was at all times (he hadn't quite gotten there with Ven yet). The growing distance between them pulled at him like a taut string, and Terra paused to look over his shoulder.

"Aqua?"

Aqua's eyes were closed as she rubbed her forehead. Her face scrunched up as if in pain, and Terra rushed towards her, heart quickening in momentary panic.

"I'm fine, Terra," she said. "I just . . . felt a little strange."

He grinned. "Being angry at Ven isn't something you should consider strange."

She crossed her arms, frowning. "I'm not angry with him."

"You should be."

It looked like she planned to hit him, to which Terra didn't even bother to cringe, but she suddenly went very still. She pushed past him, calling Ven's name. Terra spun around. In the distance, he saw it, too. It was a small shadow, face and body obscured with only the outline visible. But that spiky hair could only belong to one person. As he and Aqua got closer, Ven turned and ran. Terra could only shout in frustration.

"He better have found Master Xehanort!"

He had no idea how long they continued to chase after him. Ven had always been faster than the two of them, so it was no real surprise that once he disappeared, they didn't see him again. Thankfully, the path never branched off, so they were certain they were on his trail.

It was very quiet. Terra could hear the sound of Aqua's steady breaths, and he found that strangely unnerving. His own rose up in a cloud of steam, though he didn't think it was that cold out. At least he thought that until the first flakes of snow broke through the fog. Aqua held her hands out, and a look of worry crossed her face as the snow melted on her palms.

"We should find him quickly," Aqua said. Terra nodded.

The snow continued to fall. Terra still didn't think it was any colder than before, but who was he to judge? He glanced at Aqua who must have felt the chill deeper than him with her exposed back. He felt guilty that it hadn't occurred to him to pack some kind of coat.

He was still cursing over that when a chill shot down his spine. Goosebumps rose on his skin and the sense of something being very, very wrong overtook him. His wide eyes searched everywhere; he found nothing, but he couldn't be sure they were safe. Distracted, he stumbled, and when Aqua ran ahead of him, a bolt of pure fear ran up his spine.

If it had been Ven he was chasing, it wouldn't have worked. But this was Aqua and so, he was able to catch up, grab her by the shoulder, and almost literally throw her behind him. Earthshaker came readily to his hand, humming with power as Terra dug his feet in. The keyblade trembled as he held it aloft, waiting for an enemy that never came.

"Terra?" Aqua had summoned her own keyblade though unlike his, it hung loosely at her side. "What's wrong?"

He was quiet for a few moments as he tried to decipher what his gut was telling him. "Nothing," he finally said, dismissing his keyblade.

Aqua stepped forwards, trying to speak, but said nothing when Terra turned away in embarrassment. A shadow loomed ahead. Sparks of unease still danced inside him, but Terra forced himself to move forwards. As he grew closer, he saw that the shadow was a green sign. He read it to himself, mouthing the words before reeling back in shock.

"There's a town here?" he spluttered.

Aqua blinked, equally confused. "We must have missed it earlier."

"Aqua, we wouldn't have missed an entire town. Besides, we've travelled this way before," he pointed out. "There's no way we could have overlooked this."

"Let me see your map." Terra obliged and Aqua quickly scanned it. "Look," she said, "there is a town here."

"What?" Terra took the map to check. "But it wasn't here before!" Of that he was certain. He wasn't sure why now of all times he had developed a photographic memory, but he knew this path was supposed to lead through a canyon and nothing else. Certainly, there were no towns involved. With that fact cemented into his mind, his alarm only grew. Something was horribly wrong, why couldn't Aqua see that?

"Ven didn't just add that town to the map," Aqua said. "Terra, are you okay?"

 _Ven_. Terra resisted the urge to stab something. He couldn't leave Ven behind, yet his instincts were screaming to get out of this place. He tried to explain, but the words died in his throat. He didn't know what to say.

He ached to summon Earthshaker. However, he'd already seriously worried Aqua and if he kept acting like this, she would tell the Master he was crazy. "I'm fine. Let's go."

"Terra, are you sure you're alright?"

He nodded. Now that the decision was made, his fear was dying down. His mind drifted to other things, like what had triggered that reaction in the first place. He wondered if it were a spell – it may explain why Aqua was unaffected – and almost asked her. Almost. He didn't fancy the idea of informing her that he had been under a temporary spell that had driven him insane.

They followed the road onwards. Behind them, the snow covered the ground and erased any trace of their passage. The sign faded back into the fog, the white letters upon it still proudly spelling: _Welcome to Silent Hill_.


	2. Chapter 2

"Hello?"  


No answer came. The streets were deserted, the town's inhabitants presumably asleep. Like stars in the night, a few lights broke through the fog, though they still seemed dull. The storm had really picked up in the minutes it had taken them to get here, and the place was covered in snow. It was unevenly distributed, and in some cases even blocked doors to the buildings. That was odd.  


As Aqua looked around, Terra walked forwards. Halfway down the block, he turned. From this distance, the combination of snow and fog rendered her invisible and he quickly ran back. Luckily, she'd had the sense to stay where she was.  


"How are we supposed to find Ven in this?" he asked.  


Aqua pointed. "Look."  


His eyes fell on the blinking lights of a sign that read Gas. The building that the pole was attached to was dark, but a small stand had been erected nearby at the curve. It stood bravely against the onslaught of the wind, with no indication of its purpose save for an arrow pointing downwards. He and Aqua exchanged a glance before approaching it.  


The stand had three walls and an open fourth side so that they could see what lay inside. It looked like a merchant's shop to him, where the man would stand behind the counter and display his wares. Terra picked out umbrellas, walking sticks, seeds, nothing of real importance. A cheap amulet swayed, clinking against the wall as if begging for them to notice. Terra checked, but there didn't seem to be anyone guarding the stand.  


"We can't steal, Terra."  


"We need a better map than the one you have."  


Aqua made a noise of protest, but Terra brushed it off. His attention was fixed on the pile of maps underneath the arrow. He stretched an arm out and Aqua gave him a disapproving glare.  


"We'll leave him some munny, okay?" Terra said.  


"They don't use munny here."  


"Well," he said pompously, "then they shouldn't have left those out here in the open."  


With those last words, he plucked a map from its resting place and spread it out for him to check. He blinked; there was a small note attached to the center. _Lost?_ it asked. He shivered, feeling like eyes were upon him. He scanned their surroundings, but the fog made it impossible to tell what was where. Quickly, before Aqua found it, he grabbed the note and stuffed it in his pocket.  


"Now," he said, "if I were Ven, where would I be?"  


Nowhere stood out. The place that suited Ven's character the most was the school where all the children would be, but Terra felt that even Ven wasn't silly enough to run away there. There was a lake to the north, so at least the town wasn't that big. He squinted, picking up the map and turning it this way and that, but no obvious place to search first came to mind.  


"Maybe he's at the hospital," Aqua suggested. "If Master Xehanort is injured it could explain why Ven didn't come back for us."  


"Based on how Master Eraqus talks about him, I would expect Xehanort to be found here." Terra firmly planted his finger on the jail.  


She raised her hand, as if thinking of swatting him. "You should hope that neither of them hears that you said that."  


He wiggled his eyebrows. "They won't if you don't tell."  


Aqua giggled. They held each other's gaze for a moment, and then she jerked back as if waking from a dream. "We should go."  


"Okay." He folded the map up and put it away.  


They had been walking only for ten seconds when Aqua suddenly ran back. She grabbed a map from the stand, slipping it into her pocket with a guilty look on her face.  


"Aqua, welcome to the dark side."  


This time, she did hit him.  


It was difficult to navigate in this weather. They stuck close to the buildings, so that they could easily tell when one road branched off. But despite the storm, the scenery fascinated Terra. The homes here were huge; the paths were covered with something smoother and harder than cobblestone; those lights he had seen earlier had a source. When he asked, Aqua said they were streetlights, but she too was at a loss when it came to how they worked. Each of them had heard stories from Master Eraqus about this kind of place, but they still weren't prepared for what they saw.  


"What do you think gas is?" he asked.  


"I don't know," Aqua answered. "But Master told me once never to cast a Fire spell on it."  


He didn't think about why, just took her word as the truth. He was too busy marvelling over the houses to dwell on it anyways. Imagine everyone being able to live in a palace like them! True, the Land of Departure boasted a huge castle that overshadowed these, but Terra still had memories of a much smaller home, from a time before the keyblade where he was always hungry and ran barefoot with his friends.  


The wind carried voices to them. "Did you hear that?" Aqua wandered forwards, slowly spinning as she searched for the voices' owners. "Maybe they've seen Ven!"  


"We're not going to have much luck finding them in this."  


He meant to gesture to the snow, but he backhanded a fence by accident. No, not exactly a fence, but a gate. It creaked open, a swirl of glittering snow entering through the crack. Past the gate lay a courtyard, a massive building towering over it. There was a shed in the yard, and when Terra pushed open the gate and went up to it, he found its doors unlocked. The inside was strangely empty, except for a desk, a notepad and pen, and a chair on which to sit.  


The voices came again. Aqua perked up like a dog faced with a bone. "We could go look for them," she said, "and meet back here."  


"We won't get lost?"  


"Just mark this place down on your map, Terra," Aqua grabbed the pen and did exactly that, "and don't go too far."  


It was as good a plan as any. Aqua exited the shack and went left, Terra watching uneasily as she faded out of view. He picked up the pen, set to mark the map, when he realized that he had no idea where they were. Oops.  


 _If I circle around the building, there must be a sign somewhere_. Terra tried to move away from the desk, but his foot caught on the leg of the chair and they both fell. It landed across his chest, and he pushed it away with one hand.  


With this wonderful new line of sight, Terra found that the floor was, indeed, very dirty. He brushed off his shirt, then his hair, and even considered brushing off his pants. While he pondered that, his gaze drifted underneath the desk where a long cylinder lay between two clumps of dust. He reached over and took it. It was a long, smooth thing with a switch at one end. Terra clicked it, and a beam of light shot out from the other end. Stunned, he stared blankly. He clicked again, and the light went out. Another click and it was back.  


He seen one of these before . . . oh, that was right! This had once been one of Ven's favourite toys back at the castle. He didn't think this one belonged to Ven; his younger friend had lost his a long time ago. What was that he called it? A flashlight? Yes, that sounded right.  


Terra, the new owner of one genuine flashlight, stepped out of the shack. The flashlight illuminated the fog just a little, and he proudly waved it about, gloating at his victory over nature. What was that he was supposed to be doing again? Oh, yes, he needed to figure out where he was.  


For a few steps, Terra's large footprints were right next to Aqua's. He hesitated at the gate, snow gathering on his shoulders as he strained his eyes to catch a glimpse of her. But it appeared Aqua hadn't had any second thoughts, and he shuffled back towards the building. He did find its name, presumably at what was the front of the place, right next to an entrance. Apparently, this building was an apartment, something Terra did know about. It wouldn't seem likely that anyone inside had seen Ven, but he had an uncanny ability to make all sorts of friends. Terra tried a door, but it was locked. Knocking didn't make much difference, and he didn't think it would be appreciated if he just unlocked the door with his keyblade.  


The wind died down. A crow called in the distance. There was nothing else he could hear, but he made his way out of the courtyard and through the gate anyways. A light cover of snow had filled Aqua's lingering footprints by this time, and Terra resisted one final urge to follow her. She was smart; she wouldn't get lost.  


The shadows cast by the flashlight swayed in their own private dance. Walking through the street alone was an entirely different experience. Before, he had been amazed; now, he only saw danger. It would be so easy for something to sneak up on him in the fog, or pounce from one of those giant buildings. Their constant presence felt suffocating now, like the bars that kept a caged tiger from running free.  


Something moved in the corner of his eye. He whipped around, brandishing the flashlight like a sword. The beam itself revealed nothing, but on the fringes of the light he was sure he saw a leg slip out of view.  


"Hey!" he called. "Is someone there?"  


No one spoke, but there was a scuffing sound, like someone had just skidded to a spot.  


"Uh, hi. My name's Terra. I was wondering if you've seen a friend of mine."  


The answer was too soft for him to understand, but encouraging. Terra didn't even realize how tight his grip had been until it loosened. "He's really short," Terra said, stepping forwards, "and he has spiky blonde hair and blue eyes. Uh, I got a pen so I could try drawing him for you."  


The ground made a decidedly wet sound. Terra couldn't see any slush. However, when he lifted his foot, something came with it. Red drops fell back to the earth, staining the pristine white blanket that hid it. Blood. He'd stepped right in a puddle of it.  


He leapt back, eyes wide. There were more; sticky pools lay scattered like the paw prints of some enormous beast. There were no signs of a struggle, no ripped clothing, no body, no indication this was something apart from a usual decoration. But whatever this world's customs, Terra couldn't stand idly by.  


Though it was true they were widely spread, the pools still undeniably led further away. There was nothing connecting one to the next, as though the blood had fallen from the sky. He summoned his keyblade, flashlight held steady in his other hand as he stalked down the street.  


Oh. He'd found the body.  


At the very end of the street where the road ended, there was a small alley between two stores. A man slumped against the wall there, head lolling to the side as if in sleep. But the state of his chest left no illusion of a peaceful slumber.  


Terra's feet were rooted in place. Glassy green eyes stared him straight in the face. Terra had seen death before, had passed dying men on the streets when he was a boy, but never anything this violent. He didn't want to get closer. He really didn't want to get any closer. But he was a keyblader, and duty dictated that at the very least, he tried to figure out what threatened this world.  


It got even worse when he looked closer. Before, he had thought it was just a random stabbing. Now, he knew better. The man's shirt had been ripped down the center, so stained with blood that he couldn't tell what colour it had originally been. The skin on the chest looked as though it had been cut away, and the ribs were cracked as well. Most disturbing of all was the heart, or should he say the lack of one.  


He felt nauseous. Terra stumbled away, covering his mouth, although that didn't stop the sickly smell from penetrating. The cool air was welcome on a face that suddenly felt too hot. Who had done this? Or should he be asking _what_?  


Terra steeled himself. A warrior didn't back away from a little blood. Okay, so this was more than a little and definitely had never been mentioned by the Master, but the point still stood. He tried to look straight at the body again and use some of Aqua's detective skills, but chickened out. His stare slide away, and that's why he noticed the writing on the wall.  


_Are you sure you want to find him?_  


With all the blood on the body, he wouldn't have thought it possible for there to be enough for that grisly task. Yet someone had still taken it upon themselves to leave a note, and Terra couldn't help but feel it was meant for him. But he'd already found the body, so who was left to find?  


No. His heart lurched. No, it couldn't be. But if this message was really left for him, and there was only one person he was searching for . . .  


"Ven!" The shout ripped from him. It sounded more like the roar of a lion than anything. The man in the alleyway was forgotten as Terra tore back the way he had come. This message could be a warning, or it could be a threat. He had to find Aqua now!  


He thought the wailing was his own internal alarm, ordering him to find his friends. Then it became apparent that he wasn't imagining things, that it really was sirens he was hearing. Again that creepy feeling of being watched passed over him.  


That's when it turned dark.  


It was too quick for it to be the sunset, and too dark for it to be a cloud blocking the sun. He hesitated, vapour rising as he panted. The fog peeled back, and darkness rushed to fill the empty space. The snow underfoot was turning an inky black colour.  


He pointed the flashlight at the sky, trying to see what was going on. He failed, and snow continued to tumble down in the spotlight. A flake landed on his nose, and Terra wiped it off with the back of his hand. Wait. That was wrong. This wasn't snow, but ash.  


He heard a hiss. A storm had come to life in the form of a sweeping shadow, peeling paint and stone from the buildings to reveal a worn, beaten and filthy structure underneath. Wooden shutters crashed down in the windows; chimneys crumbled and fell apart; the street lights were twisted and crushed until only a dim halo remained.  


He backed away as the road began to crack. It . . . it was dissolving, flaking away as easily as the paint had, sucked up into the sky by an invisible force.  


He was going to run now.  


The sirens wailed. Terra's heart raced as he ran, the beam of the flashlight bobbing crazily. There was no time to summon his keyblade, not when this thing was creeping up upon him. Structures collapsed in the shadows, and once or twice, he saw some object turn straight into mist.  


Fear made him swift, but the darkness was faster. It slid past him, and the dirt at his feet curled away and vanished. It gave him the oddest feeling at first, like he was walking on air, but then he realized that the ground was still there, just black.  


Almost an entire block ahead of him, the wave of destruction continued. Terra looked himself over to check that he wasn't about to disappear, and found there wasn't even a speck on his clothes. Convinced that the danger was false, he slowed his pace and gasped for breath. There was no hint of sunlight now, and yet he could see further than he could before. From here, he could see the other side of the road and the red vines that slithered down its length. Good thing he was on the sidewalk.  


But what about Aqua and Ven? The bloody writing came back to him. He had no idea where they were, if they knew what was going on or where to go. Who was to say that they hadn't dissolved along with everything else?  


 _Don't say that!_ his mind snarled. He was still here, so there was no reason they shouldn't be. He was going back to the apartment to find Aqua, and then he was going to grab Ven by his hair and drag him home. Yes. That would do nicely.  


There was a new sound. He tracked it to its source. A small black box, nearly cracked in half, leaned against the rusted leg of a bench. He picked it up and his only reward was the steady buzz of static. It only got worse as he shook it, and he tossed it over his shoulder without a second thought.  


"Aqua?" That was definitely movement he saw. At the sound of his voice, a figure came closer. Darkness shielded it, but he caught a wispy haze leaking from its arms. Although before he had been insisting otherwise, his fears that his friends were fading away returned with renewed strength.  


"Aqua!" Hand outstretched, he reached for the figure. He was close, much too close when he realized it wasn't her at all. But as if just noticing that Terra was a stranger too, the creature flew backwards out of reach.  


He wasn't sure what it was. It had a black, humanoid figure, though one without features, and it moved as fluid and seamlessly as a dancer. A constant mist rose from it, flowing into nothingness as if the darkness was trying to drag it into its depths. It inched away from him, and then slunk closer like a shy dog.  


Terra had spoken to this world's inhabitants, and they had appeared to be human like him. Certainly, none of them had spoken of a living shadow. He didn't think it was a heartless; his keyblade would have reacted if it was. Whatever it was, it seemed harmless, and he tiptoed closer with all the caution required to corner a wild animal.  


_Clink._  


Keyblades were basically that: a blade. Consequently, Terra knew everything about what they sounded like. That was why it only took him a split second to hear that noise and react. Earthshaker slashed through the air, striking his would-be assailant in the chest.  


The shadowy creature behind him vanished, and Terra was left alone with his opponent. Where the other had been tall but flimsy, this creature was small but solid. Its blue skin looked more like armour, or perhaps a shell. Its arms were nothing more than sharpened points, thin blades itching to rip and tear. It writhed on the ground, leaving deep cuts there as it struggled to stand. He should have finished it then, but he was too shocked to move. Until the thing lunged, that is.  


A body with such stiff joints shouldn't be quick, but this was. He couldn't see the arms as they swung, only the dim light that reflected off their blades. The blast of air that followed in their wake seemed sharp enough to draw blood. The sound of clashing metal rang as he instinctively blocked a blow he couldn't see with Earthshaker - thank goodness for all that practice against Ven!  


Terra swung, and the creature dodged. It landed about a foot back, the tips of its blades skimming the ground before it straightened. A soldier's stance, that's what it had. Maybe that's what it was, a warrior from an unknown army. For the first time, he saw the black symbol carved into its chest. The symbol encased a rough outline of a heart; two lines crossed through and cut it into thirds; on both sides, a pair of spikes extended from where the heart curved near the top. Yes, that could be the emblem of an army. But why was he a target?  


The soldier charged again. Terra dropped his weight; he wasn't as swift as Ven or as lithe as Aqua, and he doubted his ability to dodge. But he had strength, that was undeniable, and if he made a clean hit he would slice the soldier in half.  


He swung, Earthshaker parallel to the ground. The soldier ducked, wove underneath and past the keyblade, but Terra had anticipated that, and he stepped out and behind it. The momentum of his swing brought Earthshaker over his head, and Terra slammed it down on the soldier's back.  


 _I killed it_ , was his first thought. His horrified eyes caught every spasm, every gurgling hiss. Then the soldier simply fell apart, the armour chipping away from its body. Black flames rose, and the soldier was swallowed by the darkness.  


Nothing was left, not even a drop of blood, and there should have been a lot of it. The soldier had been blue instead of black, but could this be some new breed of heartless? The neoshadows Terra had seen with Master Eraqus looked more like the shadowy figure he saw earlier, but it was possible, right?  


He really started to worry about his friends now. Ven had always been . . . uneasy when it came to the heartless. He had never been able to tell them why; Terra only knew that the sight of them had a tendency to drive the younger boy into a trance. If Ven was cornered by them, even if Aqua was cornered by them . . . he didn't want to think about what could go wrong.  


_Clink._  


His head snapped up. Another soldier marched forwards, flanked by another, and another.  


Terra was painfully aware of how dark the street was, of how many soldiers could be hidden. A Fire spell was on his lips, but was it really worth it? Did he really want to fight out in the open where he could be attacked from all sides? Of course not! Terra may not have been as well-read as Aqua, but he knew how to fight. And sometimes in a fight, running was perfectly acceptable.  


He could hear them marching after him, the metallic sound of their steps as steady as a drum. It didn't help though, not when he thought he saw another one everywhere he looked. So he stopped looking, just kept listening for that one that was too close.  


He blasted a couple with a Thunder spell, and then forced the front gate to the courtyard open. He pushed it shut, using his keyblade to lock it. The soldiers continued to march, stopping only when they found their path barred. Sparks flew, but the soldiers seemed incapable of sawing their way through. Thankful for the reprieve, Terra turned his back on them.  


He locked the back gate for safe measures too. He could still see the faint footprints Aqua had made when they first separated, and a much fresher trail leading to the shed, indicating her return. She was okay! Relief swept through him, but there was still that tinge of worry; she could be hurt.  


"Aqua?" Terra pushed open the door and entered the shed. 

It was empty.  


Meanwhile, Aqua stared out at the foggy world and wondered why the shed door had suddenly opened on its own.


	3. Chapter 3

She wasn’t here.

Fear crept through his bones. First Ven, and now her? Add anything else to worry about, and he was going to go insane. Terra tore through the shed, ripping out the drawers in the desk, disturbing the dust with all the grace of a tornado as he looked for some clue as to where she was. In his panic, he failed to notice that the notebook had vanished, or that the shed seemed very different indeed. Before, the walls had been made of solid wood, sturdy, ready to stand up to the onslaught of whatever lay outside. But in the transformation heralded by the air horns, the wood had turned darker in some places, so that the walls now held a vertically striped pattern like the bars of a cell. Even the door creaked ominously when Terra pushed his way out.

Even though the rainfall had turned to one of ash, snow continued to glide across the ground. The cold bit at him, but the heat of his emotions soon drove it off. The sky was gloomy, his surroundings masked by shadows; this town was as barren as a desert, and somewhere his friends stood alone.

He didn’t even have that luxury. Terra barely blinked as the steady steps of the soldiers reached him. His gaze remained fixed on the snow at his feet. He was confused, wondering where to go and what to do; he was scared, scared for Aqua and Ven and worried about his ability to find them. And those emotions only fuelled another. The veins on his fists began to pop out, for above all, he was angry; he was furious at himself for losing them, at them for getting lost, at this town for being so confusing, and at the soldiers for presenting a threat.

With his back to them, the soldiers must have thought he would be an easy target. Two of them charged at once, aiming at his legs. But Terra spun around, face alight with fury, and swung Earthshaker so hard that the soldiers flew out of sight and crashed against a wall far away. There was a minute hesitation from the rest, almost unnoticeable, but then they raised their own bladed arms and attacked. Terra swung his blade in a wide arc, knocking at least three out of the air. He smirked wickedly; at least he could release his rage.

For all intents, he had classified the soldiers into the same group as the heartless, and so he felt no guilt as he tore through them, only a savage pleasure and a growing irritation over the wasted time. If only they would leave! Step by step, Terra battled his way out of the courtyard, the soldiers no match for his years of practice. The way they threw themselves at him was almost sad.

He was in the streets when a scream came from behind him. A female scream. The distraction was enough for a soldier to cut him on the arm, and he swore as he slammed his keyblade upon it. A simple Cure spell took care of the injury, and Terra wrenched his eyes away from the advancing soldiers and back to the apartment. It came from there; he was sure of it. He had already cleared out the courtyard, so it was easy to run back to the building. Manners forgotten, he unlocked the front doors, entered, and relocked them behind him.

There was no light until he clicked the flashlight on. The windows, shielded by metal shutters, didn’t even let in enough sun for him to see his own body. The flashlight passed over the walls, highlighting the rusty red stains that seemed so common lately. Dust lay in every crack and crevice. A carpet in the center of the room was almost indistinguishable from the mud covering the ground, and Terra had the sensation of breathing in dirt. The room was big, a foyer that branched off into narrow halls and stairs, yet it didn’t have a welcoming feel to it. To him, it looked empty; the furniture he found was only a skeleton of what it should be. That troubled him a little - not because he was used to the comparative riches of the Land of Departure – but because that impression was familiar. Terra’s neighbourhood, back before he met Master Eraqus, had not been a wealthy one.

Terra went back to windows, intending to peek outside. His fingers slid under the shutters, and he leapt back with a yelp when he made the fantastic discovery that they were sharp. A bead of blood appeared on his ring finger and with a scowl, he wiped it on his pants, the wound too small to bother healing.

His hand came back warm and sticky.

He shone the light on it. Blood dripped from his hand to the floor. He wiped them again, but only succeeded in spreading it to his wrist. Well, he had been injured before . . . but wasn’t that on the arm? He hadn’t bled that much, had he?

A quick look over confirmed that it wasn’t just all over his pants, but on his shirt, his shoes, just about everywhere. The flashlight fell to the ground, its beam seeming to take on a tint of red from all the blood it revealed. He could feel it on his skin, flaking with each twitch. The hair on his head was matted together in clumps. His mind froze as it struggled to register the sheer amount of it all. It was not his blood, it couldn’t be, not while he was still conscious.

_They didn’t bleed, I saw them. Heartless don’t bleed._

The soldiers had faded. Their bodies had disappeared. When they fell apart, there was nothing within them. But what if . . . for a second, he thought he remembered a pool of blood under one. He snarled and threw that picture aside. No, they didn’t bleed. He saw that; he _knew_ that. He wasn’t going to let this cast doubt upon his memories.

The floor hissed.

He stumbled away, scanning the ground for any snakes that had slithered by. Of course, it was hard to do that when the flashlight sat on the ground. What he did find though, was that the dirt was bubbling, rising up and fading into thin air with a pop. Rust fell from the walls, curling up like a dying animal. A swinging light cracked as it flickered on and off.

The building groaned. Terra ran forwards and snatched up the flashlight. A shutter impaled the ground right next to his head, and his heart thumped painfully as he dove to the side. The light continued to flicker, showing the world in a series of snapshots. This one featured a rattling chair, the next a chair that had sprouted cushions. The floor seemed steady, but the clattering made him unsure, and he took a wide stance, ready for action.

The light flickered one last time before it went dark.

Silence.

Daylight filtered through the windows. It revealed stones tiles, old, worn around the edges, but clean. The air seemed wispy as his eyes adjusted to the light, picking out outlines first, then details. The carpeted area had a table in the middle, with chairs at two opposing sides. Upon the polished wood surface was a chessboard. The pieces were set up, waiting, and Terra pushed a pawn forwards, fondly remembering his games with Master Eraqus. Terra had never beaten him, but he liked to think that he offered the Mater a challenge.

The shutters were flimsy, almost disintegrating when he lifted them to peek through the window. The fog had returned, smothering the soldiers within it. He could still see the churned-up snow from the path he had taken. Yet there was a piece missing; his course was marked, but there was nothing to indicate that anyone else had been there. Anyone else looking would have thought that he had a fit of some sorts.

He wiped the glass and in doing so, brought his attention back upon his hand. Dirt had snuck its way underneath his nails, however, that was the only taint to be found. He reeled back, studying his other hand, his pants, everything, running outside to be sure. Terra stared at himself in bewilderment; except for the tiny little cut on his finger, he was blood-free. Snow, not ash, gathered on his hair as he weighed this startling twist.

The heartless never left bodies, but that didn’t mean they didn’t leave proof of their existence. Footprints, a dropped weapon, or scratches in the ground may be the only evidence of a traveller’s misfortune. But there were traces, always traces. So why had the soldiers left nothing?

Terra stuck a finger through a rip on his shirt. No, not nothing. They had been here. And if he were to go look inside, he might find further proof of that.

He squared his shoulders and entered the apartment for the final time. That had been his intention at least; however, a map on the side of the entrance gave him pause.

“There’s how many rooms?!”

Normally, Terra would have thrown his hands up and surrendered. But his memories repeated, fixed on that scream that played in the background of his mind. It was a female scream, and the longer he thought about it, the more and more convinced he became that he knew that voice.

His fingers brushed against the Wayfinder in his pocket, and Terra began his search.

* * *

 

The blue Wayfinder twinkled like a dying star. Aqua herself did not notice, but she shivered nonetheless. Her keyblade lay against the chair as she waited for Terra to arrive. She didn’t want to admit it, but she’d had a strange feeling about this town since the moment they’d entered. An oppressive presence surrounded this place, reeking of darkness. Surely though, she and Terra could handle it.

She bit her lip. Ven’s abilities were more of a guess at this point as he tended to vary from fight to fight. Sometimes, he was just as talented as she or Terra; sometimes he surpassed them; and sometimes he would take one step and fall flat on his face. It wasn’t a comforting thought, not when Aqua could almost taste this town’s darkness.

Outside the shed through the open door, dense mist circled her. She frowned. She hadn’t heard any wind, but there must have been, for the door couldn’t possibly open that quickly on its own. A soft whisper, too low and muffled to understand, brushed past her. She looked around for its source, but there was none. She was alone.

Or maybe not.

“Hello?” Aqua stepped outside, positive that something was out there.

She was right; there was a young girl, about Ven’s age, kneeling in the courtyard. Black hair fell over her blue eyes as she picked a feather off the ground. She twirled it between her thumb and a finger, eyes rising to the sky. Only then did she appear to notice Aqua’s presence, and the girl squeaked as the feather slipped from her grasp.

“I’m not going to hurt you!” Aqua said.

The girl cringed, shrinking into herself. “You’re not from around here, are you?” she asked, refusing to meet Aqua’s eyes. Instead, Aqua’s keyblade was the target of her attention.

Had this child seen a keyblade before? Aqua wanted to know, but she had more important tasks to accomplish. “No, I’m not,” she said, “I came here with two of my friends, but we seem to have lost each other in the fog.”

“Oh. I saw a strange man earlier, but he’s gone now.”

“What did he look like?”

The girl shrugged. “Tall. Blue eyes and weird brown hair. He had a weapon like yours.”

Aqua didn’t know if Terra’s hair should be classified as weird, but otherwise the description fit the bill. “Do you know where he went?”

“I . . .”

Her words were lost in a gasp. Startled, Aqua whirled around, Rainfell at the ready. But the girl’s eyes were fixed upwards, tracing the path of a black feather as it floated down. The tip grazed her nose, and she leapt back as though she had been shocked.

“He was here,” the girl blurted out, “and he checked inside the shed, and then he went that way towards the hospital.”

Aqua blinked. It had never occurred to her that Terra might have made it back before she did. That was because she had figured that if he had, he would at least have the courtesy to wait for her (although it _was_ Terra). She supposed it wasn’t too likely that Terra thought that while she had asked him to meet her at the shed, he could go ahead to the hospital if she wasn’t there.

“Okay, thank you.”

The girl hugged herself, looking even more uncomfortable.

Pity built up inside her. “What’s your name?” Aqua asked gently.

“Why does it matter?” The reply was surprisingly venomous, especially compared to the quiet ones from before. “I’m not like you; I’m just a puppet.”

Aqua searched her brain, but she couldn’t think of anything in their conversation that would have led to that. Before she could gather her thoughts, the girl ran off. Aqua called out to her, and was greeted by an eerie silence. She shivered.

A raven watched dolefully as she walked out of the courtyard. According to her map, the hospital was to the west of here. Easy enough. The town didn’t seem to be too complicated.

The snow was falling and the wind was blowing, but she found it a rather lovely day. It wasn’t cold, not at all. In fact, it felt as though the mist held some warmth within it. Silly, yes, but it didn’t change her mind. The town was empty (or maybe she just couldn’t see anyone), but there was still that invisible ambience to it; the town was alive. She could only imagine what it would be like when everyone was awake.

Aqua frowned. It was an odd thing to walk into a world so unprepared. Usually, unless it was part of their training, the Master gave them some idea of what to expect. Otherwise, Terra would have had a panic attack when he found himself disguised as a decaying zombie in Halloween Town. However, the only thing that Master had said about this world was that Master Xehanort and his apprentice were reportedly here. If anything, the Master’s dismissive attitude suggested that this world had no special features; he hadn’t even suggested coming along with Terra and her. No, the Master had originally opted to stay at the Land of Departure with Ven until complications arose and speaking with Yen Sid became necessary. The Master would have made Ven go with him too, but Ven had begged with his big puppy-dog eyes until he was allowed to join his friends.

Maybe Ven should have gone to meet Yen Sid, as then she wouldn’t have lost him and Terra like this. She hated being away from them in general, and she especially hated being separated in a place like this. Even without the Master’s warnings, the darkness had always unnerved her, and she didn’t like to think that either of her friends was at its mercy. She knew that despite his best efforts, darkness lingered in Terra’s heart. It had been such a long time since it last flared up, but the paint on the castle’s walls did little to hide the damage. Ven, on the other hand, while lacking a dark heart, was just so _small_. Memories of meeting him swarmed her; he had been mute, barely able to feed himself. Even now when she looked at him, she sometimes saw the helpless child that had been entrusted to her Master’s keeping. Ever since then, she had always fostered a protective instinct towards him. Based on how Terra acted, she imagined that he felt the same way.

There was a crash. A garbage can had fallen on its side. Half-concealed by it, a dog searched through the rubbish, tail wagging. A green tinge dyed the dog’s scruffy fur, like algae had taken root underneath. Slowly, it backed out of the trash, dragging a bag that it ripped apart with its teeth. There was food inside, and the dog gulped it up.

Pointed ears straightened as Aqua walked past. The dog barked, its tail raised high. Its paws were silent, lacking the telltale clicks of claws as it bounded towards her. Aqua smiled, any semblance of caution forgotten as she held a hand out. The dog bypassed it and butted its head against her leg instead, sniffing. In an instant, she saw what may have been the reason why: it had no eyes. There were no sockets, even, just the same skin and fur as everywhere else. Perhaps this dog was born with a strange illness – that could explain the strange colour. However, it seemed incredibly happy for a dying creature and pressed against her when she scratched it behind the ears.

“For a blind dog, you sure seem to get enough food,” she commented. She patted it on the side, coming in contact with the lean muscles there.

She petted the dog for a while longer, listening as it practically purred. It was adorable, really, and she knew Ven would be snuggling it if he was here. But that was the entire reason that she and Terra were here, and she had to catch up with Terra before he wandered off somewhere else.

“I’m sorry, but I have to go,” she said.

It was silly to apologize to a dog, but it seemed to understand her. The ears drooped, the head cocked to one side as if to ask why. It trailed her down the road, never too far away. At most, it would disappear into the fog for a moment, and then return while licking its lips. Sadly, she realized that it must have had much practice at scavenging, and she resolved to give it some real food before she left the world.

When Aqua reached the end of the road and tried to turn onto another one, the dog started to protest. It grabbed her shorts in its teeth, pulling the other way. It did not gnaw on her fingers when she unlatched its hold, and she gently pushed its muzzle away.

“I have to find my friends.”

The dog whimpered and begged. The notes of its cries only grew harsher the further she walked away, until they suddenly dropped pitch.

Though her back was turned, the growl told her everything. In the midst of its flight, the dog’s jaws snapped shut on her summoned keyblade. Its weight crashed against her, forcing her back a few steps. A spell was on her lips, intending to freeze the dog in place, but it bounced away too quickly, landing in the middle of the road she had been peacefully traveling along moments before.

She only meant to frighten it, which was why her Fire spell landed short. And frighten it did; the dog’s ears went flat, fangs showing as its lips curled back in a snarl. The howl that escaped its throat was not as murderous as she would have expected, and she set her jaw in a grim fashion. The dog paced, eyeing the flames.

It really did have no claws, she observed. That was good for her; there were only the teeth to worry about, then. However, that same thing helped give the dog another advantage: silence.

She didn’t see the pack approaching until they stood directly in front of her. Within the time it took her to blink, five other dogs had assembled behind the first. All were eyeless, virtually identical except for a couple that were more yellow than green. They fanned out, stalking closer, and Aqua moved back as to keep the same distance between them. They were poised to attack but chose not to; not because they were wary of her keyblade as she had assumed, but because, she realized shortly after, they were herding her down the very path the first dog had tried to guide her down. Indeed, in the second that she stepped forwards instead of back, the dogs snarled. As Aqua brandished her keyblade, she wondered whether they were trying to direct her down one road, or prevent her from going down another.

Either case was unacceptable. If there was a chance that either of her friends was at that hospital, she was going. Remembering the first dog’s aversion to fire, she lit up the street with flames. The dogs scrambled, dashing this way and that, although they came back in the end. Scattered as they were though, their attacks were quite uncoordinated, and it was easy for her to swing Rainfell and intercept this lunge or another.

She didn’t want to hurt them, not when her initial encounter with the first dog was so fresh in her mind. But like starving coyotes, they were relentless. The fire warded them off, but never for long.

That wasn’t the only trick she had though. Magic had always been her specialty, and her lips formed the word of a different spell. A flash, and then the dogs’ paws were frozen to the ground. In time, the spell would weaken and they would break free, but it would still buy her enough time to either reach the hospital or recharge her magic for another quick freeze.

The dogs tried to move, confused. The ice held fast though, and they could only turn their heads and ears to track her. The last dog she passed glared to the side as if it had a feeling of betrayal. This was the dog she had first met in the street; Aqua wasn’t sure how she knew since it was identical to the others of its colouring, but she knew. She paused. The dog raised its head, the anger replaced with what seemed to be a cautious optimism. She looked away.

Long after it was out of sight, she could still hear it howling after her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first major divergence from Silent Hill canon is featured in this chapter. In this story, Brookhaven Hospital is not a monster-ridden wreck, but, well, a haven.

**Chapter 4**

“It should be right here. . .”

Aqua looked up and found that, indeed, her assertion was correct. And that she’d just walked into the hospital’s fence. Clearly, this was a very accurate map.

Like everywhere else, Brookhaven Hospital was dark and poorly maintained. She didn’t think this was a poor city, but if this was the best hospital they had to offer, she would have to reconsider. Shades had been drawn in all the windows, at least the ones that weren’t boarded up. It was a gloomy place, as if the staff didn’t want you to forget that people died here.

There was more than enough light to see by inside; it was certainly brighter than it was outside (although that wasn’t saying much). Her footsteps echoed as she walked down the white halls, passing the closed door of a kitchen as she did so. Whoever ran the hospital had enough sense to see that the inside did not appear as beaten up as the exterior, and there was a dull shine to the floor. Perhaps it was because few feet tread upon it; for a hospital, it sure was quiet.

As she reached a branching hallway, she saw a blonde man disappear into a room. Hoping he was a doctor, Aqua ran to the door. Halfway up, her hand stalled. _Meeting Room,_ the label on the door declared. She was reluctant to interrupt just for the sake that one of them might have seen Ven.

She was just about to leave when the door swung open. Bright orange eyes glared at her, and scowling lips grew even thinner as he looked her over. The man boasted a proud moustache and goatee as neat as his slicked hair, dignified enough to give even her Master a moment of self-doubt. Surely, he was a doctor, for the white lab coat felt too formal for an everyday person, even with the red coat draped around his neck like a scarf.

“I have never seen you around here before,” he said pointedly.

Aqua had expected a calm, professional manner; but this man was openly hostile, and she found herself spluttering as she said, “Sorry, I’m not from around here.”

The man’s stern gaze wavered. “No, you are not. I apologize.”

Her face hot, Aqua answered, “You don’t need to.” When the silence stretched on, she moved swiftly to diffuse the tension. “My name is Aqua.”

He shook her hand. “Ansem. What brings you to Silent Hill, Aqua?”

“I’m looking for my friend, Ventus. My other friend, Terra, and I were separated from him this morning. He’s a little boy with blue eyes, blonde spiky hair and enough energy to power a city. You wouldn’t happen to know if anyone’s seen him, would you?”

Ansem chuckled. “If anyone had seen him, they wouldn’t tell.”

Aqua blinked as Ansem continued. “The people living in this town are of a very unpleasant sort. Trust me when I say that your quest will be much smoother if you choose to avoid them.”

“Aren’t you from this town, sir?”

“Oh, no, I’m a detective from another district. So, run along,” he patted her on the shoulder, “I’d suggest renting a room in the town of Kettleby, just to the west of here, and if I see this Ventus I’ll bring him to you.”

Her smile was brittle. “I’m sorry, sir, but I have no intention of leaving until I find him.”

“Miss Aqua, this is not a town you should wish to be overnight in. There are strange happenings here, and it not safe for a lovely person such as yourself to wander these streets alone.”

Rainfell did not flash into existence, but through their connection, still made itself known. The power passed through her like the lingering touch of a spell, and Ansem stiffened as if he, too, was affected. When Aqua dryly stated that she could take care of herself, he stayed silent.

“What do you mean by strange happenings?” she asked quietly. Could it be related to the darkness plaguing this town?

“Miss Aqua, please. Leave this to the professionals.”

Ansem gave her a patronizing smile, and Aqua struggled to keep herself civil. The Master may have wielded his keyblade with such grace that it painted her as an amateur, yet even he failed to make her feel as . . . _simple_ as this man did.

Their conversation, or rather lack thereof, was interrupted by a squeak. From around a corner, a young girl with blue eyes peeked out at them. Aqua waved, and the girl gave her a shy smile before setting her eyes on Ansem. The girl’s mood immediately dampened.

“Do you have something to say, Naminé?” Ansem stepped towards the girl, and she shrunk back. “No? Then be gone!”

Aqua was too stunned to react until Naminé was gone. But Ansem’s sneering face spurred her into action. “Why did you do that?” she demanded.

"Were you not listening earlier?” Ansem sounded genuinely surprised. “She’s one of them, and those people cannot be trusted.”

“She’s just a little girl.”

“And one day, she’ll grow up to be exactly like everyone else. You may think she looks innocent, Miss Aqua, but don’t be fooled.” Ansem’s voice dropped as he delivered his verdict. “Whatever thoughts she has are twisted by her faith. You can trust that she would hand you over to the Order before assisting you out of any goodwill.”

“What are you talking about?”

Ansem touched his chin with his knuckles, shaking his head. “You really are not from around here. Come, it is better if I show you.”

She saw no one else as he led her to the stairs. The walls gleamed, bare. They passed a gurney with brown wheels and dusty sheets. She tried to avoid looking inside the rooms out of respect for the patients’ privacy, but the few glimpses she caught revealed them as empty; the beds lacked sheets and linen, medical stores held only a few bottles. A perpetual hush hung over the hospital, as if mourning some great tragedy, one that Ansem refused to appreciate.

As they climbed the stairs, he spoke, “Every man and women in Silent Hill are members of the same cult, the Order. I have yet to find the name of their idol, but they all cling to it as their god. In regular circumstances, few would care, but this religion is one of evil. They’re hardly human anymore.”

“Don’t you think you’re being a little . . . extreme?”

He didn’t answer and opened a door to the second floor. Aqua cautiously went along, following him to another door. This he flung open and with a sweep of his arm, beckoned her forwards.

A metal table sat in the middle of the room. It was rectangular in shape, longer than it was wide, and chills shot down her spine. A single light shone down on it, the reflection so blinding that she raised a hand to shield her eyes. Cabinets were scattered around the room and there was another small table next to the far side of the first.

Ansem ran his hand along the metal table’s edge. “See these?” He hooked a finger under a leather restraint, tugging. “They used to strap people down, I’m sure of it. Come, look at this?” From the smaller table, he produced a dull scalpel. “This may be clean, but when I first arrived, the others were stained in blood. Some of the reports I’ve recovered are simply fascinating. They washed up, made sure their clipboards and papers were nice and neat, and then they brought the knife down on their subject’s chest and _cut_. They seemed to have a particular interest in the heart.”

“I. . .” Aqua closed her eyes, willing the images to go away. “Why hasn’t anyone done anything?”

Her eyes opened again when Ansem laughed. “Why? Because I’m the first to investigate. It was only a couple of years ago when anyone in authority realized that something was amiss. A man and his daughter, Harry and Cheryl Mason, went to the police with the most unbelievable tale. We would have written him off as insane, if he didn’t have the support of one of our officers who claimed she was a witness. No action was taken at that time, but then a man named James Sunderland went missing. His body was later found not far from Silent Hill in a submerged car, a suicide. But the evidence we found was . . . troubling. A team of my colleagues dug deeper, and found that Sunderland was not the first to mysteriously kill himself in that area, and that locals from neighbouring towns knew of dozens who had gone to Silent Hill and never returned.”

“So, they only sent you?” she asked, unsure.

“No, I am just a follow-up. There was a team sent some time ago, but we haven’t heard from them.”

The room held a single window, and Aqua could see how the fog shrouded the outside. Yes, it would be easy to get separated here – she knew that from experience. Now, she also wondered what nature hid from her. What was going on in that blanket of secrecy?

“I could help you look for them,” she said, “and we could look for my friends at the same time.”

Ansem smiled. “A kind offer, but I’m afraid I must insist that you leave.” The table rang as he dropped the scalpel on it. “If this is not enough to persuade you that this place is dangerous, then I sincerely question your sanity.”

“I will not leave without my friends.”

“Then I’m afraid I must decline regardless. If you are simply searching for your friends, you should be able to avoid some of the less . . . savoury aspects of Silent Hill – ones I have no option but to investigate. If I meet this Ventus of yours -”

“Could you keep an eye out for Terra as well?”

Ansem nodded. “Or Terra,” he agreed, “I’ll be sure to mention that you are looking for them. Good day to you, Miss Aqua.”

Alone again, Aqua was left to explore. However, the room didn’t present much. There was only so much you could learn from a table and leather straps. Apart from the scalpel, the smaller table did have some more instruments, but looking at them for more than a second disturbed her.

The cabinets appeared to have been raided – presumably by Ansem – but through a crack, she saw a hint of paper. Aqua opened it to reveal a small notebook innocently sitting on the uppermost shelf. The spine was worn although the black cover looked new. There was no title, just a note inside that labeled it as some kind of report.

_Town inhabitants are hostile_ , read the first page. _Felt like they were going to shoot me if I turned around. Made sure my guns were clearly visible to everyone. The lunatics don’t even have a liveable cop station around, so we’ve taken over an out-of use hospital. Least there’s food._

_The others disapprove of the language I’ve been using. Say I need to be more impartial. As if! I’ve been here for less than a day and I already know these people are freaking insane. I would just cuff them all and send them away if it was my decision, but the boss says I can’t do that until I get some evidence. Looks like I’ll be staying here for a while._

Aqua glanced over her shoulder. This must have been the team that Ansem had spoken about. But it was odd that he would leave it here like that. Perhaps he had overlooked it.

She stepped out of the room, calling his name. Her eyes fell not on him, but on Naminé. Like the walls around here, she was draped in white and the pale colours only made her vibrant blue eyes that much more striking. Unlike before, she clutched a sketchpad close to her chest and a crayon in her hand. She squinted up at Aqua, then at a sketch that she hastily changed.

Despite Ansem’s words, Aqua felt no hostility. “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced,” she said. “My name’s Aqua.” She knelt down, meeting the girl at eye-level. “I’m really sorry for what that man said to you.”

“It’s not his fault. He has reasons to say those things.”

“Not to you.”

Naminé smiled. “Thank you.”

Straightening up, Aqua asked, “Where is everyone?”

“Few people come to this hospital anymore.” Naminé grabbed Aqua’s shoulder, using it as support as she stood on her tiptoes. She whispered, “That means it’s safe.”

Safe? Before Aqua could phrase her question, Naminé wandered past her, running a hand along the wall. She disappeared into one of the rooms and with a lack of anything else to do, Aqua followed.

Naminé’s room curiously held the most colour out of anywhere in this town. The building’s structure was still white as were the sheets on the bed, but pictures, drawn in crayon, covered every inch of the walls. The rainbow shocked her eyes; it was too much to take in at once. Naminé herself was lying on her bed, another crayon in hand. She pushed the sketch book towards Aqua, allowing her to see it.

“Is that me?”

Naminé nodded. “It’s not very good,” she said apologetically. “I couldn’t get a very clear image of you.” Wistfully, she added, “Your heart must be filled with light.”

Aqua couldn’t quite follow Naminé’s logic, but that didn’t stop her from admiring the girl’s work. It was undeniably her clothes that the person wore, just in case one wasn’t able to tell who it was from the blue hair. The drawing grinned at her, triumphantly raising Rainfell amidst a white background. Wait, what? Aqua had never summoned her keyblade inside the hospital.

“Did you see me earlier?”

“Outside? No. I don’t go out there; it’s dangerous for me.”

As Aqua pondered this, Naminé took her sketchpad back. She flipped to a previous page and began filling in shapes with a grey crayon. The shapes were all rounded at the top and flat at the bottom. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to them at first, but when she switched to a different colour and began to trace out a cobblestone path, Aqua realized she was creating a cemetery. When Aqua stared, Naminé blinked up at her. Abruptly, Aqua was reminded of the girl she met outside the apartment, a girl whose eyes held the exact same shade of blue.

Naminé was engrossed in her task, so Aqua felt it appropriate to get up and examine the other pictures. Strangely, Naminé herself seemed to be in few of them. Rather, they focused on strangers. Here, a man carried his sleeping child down a foggy path; here, a couple held hands on a lonely bench. The waxy lines were all thick and childish, but there was still something real about the pictures, like they were a snapshot in time. As Naminé worked away, Aqua studied the collection.

As she went further along, when she turned to the wall with a window showcasing the outside world, the collection took a darker turn. There was an immediate change in the brightness of the drawings, as though someone had come along and sucked the colours right out. Red and black reigned here, blotching out all the others that struggled against them. Aqua directed her attention to the misshaped drawings by the window, the papers of which were torn and wrinkled. Unlike the others, they appeared to have completed with little care or time, as if there was a sense of urgency about them. Of these, two of them had the honour of being pasted right in the center of the glass.

The first made little sense to her. It featured what she thought was a man, or maybe a monster. The body seemed humanoid, but the head was . . . it was a triangle? Well, that wasn’t entirely accurate; it was a helmet designed in the shape of a triangular pyramid. With one hand, the figure grasped the handle of some kind of giant blade. That was about all she could make out. The drawing was smeared with red crayon so that it blurred all the other details.

The second drawing was the complete opposite of the first. Where the latter had every inch filled in, this one was fairly empty. All it featured was a sleeping boy, who seemed more and more familiar the longer she looked . . .

“You’ve seen Ven?” Aqua gasped.

“In my drawings.”

“Naminé, do you know where I can find him?”

Naminé bit her lip, looking at the ground as she answered yes. She sat up, folding the sketchpad so that only one page was visible, and wordlessly handed it off to Aqua. In the short time she’d been here, the picture had evolved; no longer just a cemetery, but the front yard of a building with stone stairs and two massive doors.

“He’s at this church?” Aqua asked.

“He is now, but I don’t know how long he’ll stay.”

That last statement barely entered Aqua’s mind. At last, she had found some clue where Ven had gone! Now, if only she could say the same for Terra.

“Have you seen another strange boy around here? He’s taller than me and . . .”

Naminé said, “I’m not sure where he is.”

“You know who he is?”

“Yes,” Naminé answered quietly. Like a switch had been flicked, Naminé wilted. Aqua gently put her hand on her shoulder, not sure what had just happened.

“You should stay here,” Naminé said. “You may not think so, but Terra will find this place. Ven . . .” She trailed off, and then started up again with forced confidence, “Ven will come here too! Then you can face the darkness together.”

“That’s a lovely idea.” Naminé stared at her hopefully with the same puppy-dog eyes that Ven had long mastered. Maybe it was a universal thing among children. “But I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

Naminé sighed. “I know. Just promise you won’t forget.”

“Forget what?”

“Here. It’s safe here.”

_Safe_? her mind asked again. “What do you mean by that?”

“I can’t tell you. This place is safe, but they still might. . .” Naminé bowed her head. “Please, Aqua, promise you won’t forget.”

Aqua was patient, waiting until Naminé gathered the courage to raise her chin so that Aqua could look her in the eyes. Only then did she say, “I promise.”


	5. Chapter 5

The world was spinning.

There were two buildings Ven observed as he lay on the grass. They swayed back and forth, circling each other, blurring like a photo that wasn’t quite in focus. The image blacked out, then returned in bits and pieces as he rubbed his eyes open with the back of his hand. His hand stretched out in front of him, multiplied and soon, copies were dancing everywhere. Awesome.

The buildings collided, fusing as feeling returned to his arms and legs. Ven sat up, rubbing his stiff neck as he took in his surroundings. The kaleidoscope-effect slowly faded away, so that all the copies became one again, and he was able to see that he was in a yard of some sorts. Yeah, that was about all he had.

Funny, he was pretty sure he hadn’t gone to sleep here. First things first, Ven ran his fingers through his hair, examined his clothes and checked out his reflection in a patch of ice. Okay, no signs of Terra pulling a prank on him, but you could never be sure. Schooling his face into one of nervousness, Ven stood and wobbled around with all the grace of a baby penguin. He cried out Aqua’s name, letting his voice quiver.

When she didn’t rush out to meet him, Ven decided that this wasn’t one of Terra’s tricks. Terra wouldn’t have been able to do this without Aqua knowing and if she was anywhere nearby, she would have revealed herself by now. Aqua couldn’t resist him when he was scared; or when he was happy; or when he was pouting; or anytime, really.

Well, on to Plan B. Ven pulled a scroll out of his pocket, and rolled it open on the ground. After a few incidents where Ven had wandered off in the middle of the night, Terra and Aqua had made him write _Ven’s Handy Guide to Dealing with Sleepwalking!_ That name was all his; Aqua had just wanted a general list of what Ven should do if he found himself alone, and Terra had wanted a list entitled _Ven’s Guide of What to Do When He’s Done Something Stupid_ (to which Aqua had reminded Terra that Ven hadn’t been the one to set the Master’s clothes on fire).

"Step one,” Ven read aloud, “see if you know where you are.”

Well, last night he was sure he had gone to bed on a mountain. Plus, he was certain that there hadn’t been a building around. It was pretty flat here. He studied the grass at his feet, reasoned that it was probably a comfier bed than the rocky ground that Terra had slept on, and smirked.

He wasn’t injured, that was the second item on the list. The third was to figure out what sort of supplies he had. Well, he had his keyblade, and the list. He didn’t expect anything else, but then his eyes panned over to a torn-apart, empty, very familiar backpack.

“Aw, crud!” The backpack had held the trio’s supplies and _Terra’s snacks_.

Terra was going to kill him.

According to the list, he was supposed to sit still until Terra and Aqua found him. So he crossed his arms behind his head, settled down, and watched the clouds. Or the fog, he guessed.

The cold air licked his skin. Ven shivered, dislodging some snow from where it had fallen on his shirt. Man, it was cold. He hugged his knees to his chest, tucking his head in. Yes, Terra or Aqua could show up now, that would be great, thanks.

Ugh. If he knew it would be so cold, he would have brought a sweater. As it was, Ven ran around the yard a few times until steam was practically rising from him. He wasn’t leaving the yard, so technically he was staying . . .

Hey, was that a dog?

He could only see the dog’s shadow through the fog. The head perked up when Ven whistled, however, it made no move to come closer. So Ven took it upon himself to make the first move. The dog ran, but Ven was faster.

He chased it around the building, and up a set of stairs. “Got you . . . huh?”

This dog was weird; it was _green_. Try as he might, Ven couldn’t find its eyes. Oh, well. It wasn’t that important, right?

“Here, doggie.”

Ven softly clicked his tongue, and the dog twitched as if it had been electrocuted. He stared in confusion as the dog bared its teeth, and only backed up himself when it stepped forwards. Okay, it was a little too close now. Ven smiled, laughing nervously.

He found his back against a wall. He could see the pink of the dog’s gums above a set of very big teeth. Ven scanned the area beyond the stairs, searching for an escape, but only managed to freak himself out. Below, where stone met dirt, was a field of battered graves. They jutted out of the ground at odd angles, as if they had been hurriedly placed and no one had bothered to fix them.

A slit of light appeared to his left. With the great sound of rock scraping on rock, a door slowly opened outwards. Ven glanced at it, then the snarling dog, and then made a run for it. The dog barked, chasing after him.

By the time he reached the door, he was close enough to catch a glimpse of a pale face framed by blonde hair. Green eyes widened as the man raised his hand in an order to stop. Ven skidded to a halt, arms wheeling. Unfortunately, his balance wasn’t so quick to adapt.

“Wah!”

Without any arm to prop it open, the door slammed shut. Faint barks came from the other side and Ven, on his stomach, pumped his fist in victory. His victorious grin faltered though when his hands met fabric.

Blue eyes looked down and met green. Oh. This was awkward.

“Get off of me!”

Ven blushed, scrambling to his feet. The man he had landed upon rose too, smoothing his black coat with furious swipes.

“You dare to assault my person! I won’t have it; someone of my position doesn’t have to put up with this . . .”

Ven watched in fascination as the man’s face grew red. He was practically frothing at the mouth. Ven considered that, wondering if he should back up. If the man did begin to froth, then he had no wish to be in the direct path of any spit. But how to do it sneakily? He crossed his arms, deep in thought.

“ . . . have your head, I will. You’re just an insect compared to . . .”

Maybe he should try a Reflect spell? Nah, the man would definitely see it. Let’s see: if he was Terra, he would just stand around looking really uncomfortable and it probably wouldn’t even occur to him to get out of the way. That was no help. Aqua probably would have talked her way out of the situation by now. He sighed; he wasn’t so sure he could pull that off.

". . . are you even listening to me, boy?” Ven jumped as the man shrieked. “I will not tolerate such disrespect!”

Just then, another deeper voice cut through the ruckus. “Vexen, what is the meaning of this?”

“S-Superior!” So much for the red. Instead, Vexen’s face lost all colour. “This boy attacked me. I demand that he receive a due punishment!”

The Superior was quiet for a long time. His orange eyes looked over every inch of Vexen, and then latched on to Ven. Ven gasped; except for the silver hair and black coat, this man looked so much like an older Terra. So entranced was he by this discovery, that Ven kept staring blankly at the Superior’s face. The Superior stared at him in turn.

"You appear unharmed to me, Vexen.” The Superior spoke softly, but Vexen still flinched as though he had taken a whip to his back. “Our friend here does not seem to be of the wicked sort; it was an accident, I presume?”

Ven nodded vigorously.

“You see: there was no harm meant.” Vexen spluttered, but fell silent when the Superior turned to him. “Return to your duties. I shall see to our guest.”

Vexen scurried off.

With a grand sweep of his arm, the Superior officially invited Ven in. Now that he wasn’t being yelled at or chased by rabid dogs, Ven was finally able to see just what the building was: a church. The rows upon rows of pews declared that it had to be.

“Wow,” he breathed. At other end of the church, beams of lights filtered through three stained glass windows. They were _huge_ , almost half the size of the wall – and the church wasn’t too small to begin with. Each window featured a gowned person, one with a green colour scheme, one red, and one blue.

“Magnificent, is it not?”

“It sure is, uh . . .”

“You may call me Xemnas. What is your name?”

“Ventus, but my friends call me Ven.”

Xemnas’ gaze drifted upwards. “And am I your friend, Ventus?” Before Ven could answer, Xemnas chuckled. “Yes, yes it would appear I am.”

“Err, okay.” Ven scratched the back of his neck. “This may be a dumb question, but where am I?”

“In Silent Hill, the home to the power of darkness itself. Through those windows you cannot tell, but this place is wreathed in perpetual twilight. Here, morning is night. And night?” Ven thought he saw the barest hint of a smirk on Xemnas’ face. “The nights here are but the deepest depths of darkness, Ventus. You would do well to stay in this church. Only here may you find safety.”

“I’d like to, really, but I’m sure my friends are looking for me.”

“You need not worry about them. Whether it is the darkness or their hearts that compel them, they, too, will stand in this chapel. The path they walk now does not matter, for from the very moment they touched your heart, it became their destiny.”

“ . . . I don’t understand,” Ven said.

“In time, all will become clear. Come.” A firm hand placed itself on Ven’s back, guiding him forwards. “I will show you where you may spend the night.”

Ven tore himself away from the man. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’m going to look for my friends.”

Xemnas was still, his fingers spread as if they were still pushing on Ven’s back. He closed his eyes. “Such foolishness. For the sake of your friends, you deny the wisdom of one with experience. It is almost . . . pitiful what sway the light has over you. An insult, though one that should have been expected.”

Ven bristled. “Take that back!”

Xemnas ignored him. Like a spirit, he seemed to glide along the floor past him. The church doors flew open at his touch. He smiled serenely, arms rising so that he looked like someone basking in the sun. “Tell me, what do you see, Ventus?”

 Ven shrugged. “Fog?”

"Yes, for now. From the very beginning of time, the fog has shrouded Silent Hill: a town of shadows, a nest for a sleeping God. Now he has woken, and his ascension is almost complete. Your heart may be strong, Ventus, but you cannot survive, for if our God wills it, the darkness will transform this town into a horror even your greatest nightmares fail to envision. Stay here, Ventus.”

Ven shook his head, fighting back the creeping feeling of dread. “I can’t.”

There was a minute shift. Ven wasn’t sure what happened, but suddenly Xemnas seemed to be radiating energy. “I insist that you do.”

“No!” Ven didn’t mean to shout, but the hairs were rising on the back of his neck. He threw his hand out behind him, ready to summon his keyblade.

And the wave of energy dissipated. There was one last pulse, like electricity was dancing on his skin. Then that faded too. “I suppose it makes no difference,” Xemnas said. “Either way, in time, your heart will return to the darkness from whence it came. Take this, Ventus.” From underneath his cloak, Xemnas pulled out a flashlight which he pressed into Ven’s chest. “Sometimes,” he said, “it becomes . . . difficult to see outside. Mind you don’t lose your way.”

Ven said nothing as he stepped outside. The dog was gone, but Ven couldn’t help but feel tense; Xemnas’ ominous words hung over him. Behind him, the doors slammed shut, cutting him off from the light of the church. Now, the only thing to light his way was the bit of the sun that navigated its way through the fog. He experimentally turned the flashlight on, but it did little to help him.

“I did exactly what you told me to; isn’t that enough?”

That was a girl’s voice. Ven looked around curiously; there was nothing in front of him, save the stairs and graves. However, in a spot to the far right, he could barely make out the outline of a person. Ven shouted a greeting, waving his hands wildly, and ran down the stairs. Not one person there was, but two.  From this distance, the difference in the forms’ sizes was similar to Terra and him.

The taller figure was a man with a ponytail. The man’s single amber eye gleamed as he grinned. The other eye was covered with a pirate’s eye patch, positioned on the opposite side of a massive scar upon his left cheek.

“So, you did, but I hear there was a little bit of, ah, hesitation.” The man looked up suddenly, straight at Ven. “Well, what do we have here?” he asked. “This your doing, Xion?”

The other person, a girl, shook her head. She kept her distance from Ven, even as Ven bounded up to them.

“Actually, I woke up here. I think I was sleepwalking,” Ven explained.

“Sleepwalking?” The man laughed and ruffled Ven’s hair. “That’s cute, kid. Name’s Xigbar. This here,” he jerked a thumb at the small girl standing at his shoulder, “is Poppet.”

Poppet? That was a funny name. The girl seemed to share that thought, for she murmured, “It’s Xion” under her breath.

“I’m Ventus.”

“Ventus, huh?” Xigbar clicked his tongue. “Been hearing your name a lot lately.” Before he could elaborate, Xigbar stiffened as if receiving some unknown signal. “Sorry, dudes, but it looks like the Boss wants me.” Xigbar placed one hand on Ven’s shoulder, one on Xion’s, and shoved them together so that their heads almost collided. “Play nicely.”

“He’s heard my name before?” Ven repeated, confused. He turned to Xion who had been doing her best to sneak away.

“He hasn’t seen you before if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“But how did he hear it?”

Xion went still, looking both scared and annoyed. “Some outsiders were asking about you.”

“Outsiders?” It hit him. “You mean Aqua and Terra! Have you seen them?”

“I . . .”

“That’s amazing!” Ven bounced up and down on his heels. He ran down the cobblestone path, racing back when Xion failed to follow and asked, “Where are they? They’re not too mad at me, are they? I mean, Terra can’t be that angry that I took his snacks.” He paused for a second to deliberate. “Well, he can be pretty cranky in the morning, but he was alone with _Aqua_ , so he’s probably in a good mood.”

Xion glanced around, and then raised her hood so that it hid her face completely. “I haven’t met Terra.”

“Really, he wasn’t with Aqua? Weird,” he added upon further thought. “Do you know where she is?”

“Not right now.”

“Somebody’s got to know where they are,” Ven muttered, eyeing the fog around him suspiciously. He brightened up. “Hey, want to help me look for them. I mean I’ve never been here before, so you can be like a map – one that I can talk to.”

“I guess,” she shuffled her feet, “but. . .”

Xion yelped as he grabbed her arm. “Great, let’s go!” The two of them flew down the path. Well, Ven did and he dragged Xion along.    

“Slow down!” Xion demanded. She dug her heels in, resisting, and Ven struggled to move forwards like a dog straining at his collar. “We don’t even know where we’re going.”

“Oh, okay. So, where do you want to go?”

Upon the point of a rusted, metal fence, a raven cawed. It cocked its head to one side, then another, studying the two with its amber eyes. The darkness of the bird’s feathers was oddly striking in the swirls of snow that coiled around it. A hoarse gurgle escaped from it, almost like it was laughing, before it took off and darted down the road.

“We’ll go that way,” Xion declared.

“We’re following the bird?”

Xion didn’t answer, and Ven wasn’t sure if she bumped into his shoulder on purpose.

Ven did his best to start a conversation, but it had suddenly become difficult to get more than a one-word answer from her. Xion steadfastly avoided looking at him too, reaching the point where Ven wriggled his hands in front of his face just to prove he was there. She was a silent guide, a ghost who seemed to blink in and out of existence. Luckily, he had always thought ghosts were cool.

“Do you always wear those black coats?”

“Yes.”

“Who are you guys anyways?”

“The Order.”

Hooray! That was _two_ words. Ven mentally whooped, sure that he was finally getting her to open up.

“And you worship this God?”

“Yes.”

"Who is?”

Xion’s pace sped up, so that she moved ahead of him. But he wasn’t named after the wind for nothing. He barely skimmed the sidewalk as he matched her pace for pace. He flashed a brilliant, trade-marked smile at her, but when Xion shied away, the energy to maintain it simply disappeared.

“You don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to,” he said.

“What?” Xion wrenched her gaze away from the ground. “Oh, no, it’s not your fault, Ventus. I’m sorry; I haven’t been very good company.”

He didn’t want to admit that was true, so he switched topics, mumbling, “You seem like you’re sad.”

“Well, yes, that’s true, but you really don’t have to worry about me.”

“But I want to!” Ven puffed out his chest, delivering his best macho impression.

Xion sighed. “Ventus . . .”

“Call me Ven!” His chest still puffed out, he offered his hand.

His bold actions finally earned a smile. It was a delicate thing, frail, and completely worth it. Her hands felt small compared to his own, and the handshake was shy at best.

“Okay, Ven.” She rolled the name around, testing it, and then glanced at him for his approval. So he did what he did best: smiled.

“It’s almost disturbing how nice you are,” she remarked. Some ice clung to her words, but unlike before, it carried a bit of expression.

“Why? Are people usually mean to you?”

"Sort of, but no one has very much kindness in their hearts here, so it’s to be expected. The town doesn’t usually call people unless their light is dim.”

“Huh?”

“Forget I said that!” Xion rushed to say. Ven opened his mouth, but she cut across him, begging, “Please, Ven, drop it!”

He exhaled and did as she asked. It wasn’t that he was frustrated, per say, but he was confused. What was up with girls and refusing to answer perfectly legitimate questions? Aqua always did that, too, when he made comments about how she and Terra should get together. One of these days, it was going to drive him insane.

"I’m sorry, Ven, but there’s some stuff I shouldn’t talk about.”

“Who’s going to hear you?”

“Anyone could be hiding in this,” she beckoned to the fog, “I don’t want to risk it.”

Fair enough. It’s not like it was going to kill him if he didn’t know. He nodded his appreciation, settling into position beside Xion, walking easily now that she had slowed down.

They reached another fork in the road, where they hovered for a minute. Ven found the raven first, perched on a pole directly across from them. Xion turned reluctantly, her blue eyes darkening as she found the source of Ven’s enthusiastic pointing. Her shoulders slumped, and without even looking at him, she led him down that road, past the pole and further on, until the bird was nothing more than a speck.


	6. Chapter 6

Terra’s fingers drummed on the door. “Anyone home?” he shouted.

It was a good thing no one was, as the closed door supported his entire body right now – not that he was expecting anyone to open it. He’d knocked on dozens of door, shouted several times, even tested a few knobs. It didn’t seem like anyone lived here, and he was beginning to doubt his memories of a scream.

He moved on. He had yet to find any trace of Aqua. Or anyone. Really, finding a breathing person would be nice around now.

The flashlight’s beam swept over the ground, revealing nothing. Terra still wasn’t quite sure what had happened to the blood and rust of before, but hey, he wasn’t complaining. If he could take a step forwards without worrying that something was underfoot, that was fine with him.

He tapped on another door, and then passed that by. Did anyone live here? He’d seen a few pictures of supposed residents, but had yet to meet any. However, the odd footprint had been preserved in the carpet, and the apartment building seemed too neatly furnished and clean to be abandoned. Still, the apparent emptiness worried him.

Another empty room. The wall shook as Terra punched it. Plaster crumbled around his fist, but he found himself lacking guilt as his head fell to rest against the wall. Eyes closed, he struggled to calm himself. Was there a scream, or was there not a scream? Was he, or was he not insane? And where in the world were Aqua and Ven?

With a tremendous effort, he straightened up and went to the next door. He didn’t like being separated from either of them. He liked it when they were close, where he could glance over his shoulder and know they were okay. He was the oldest, the strongest. Like the alpha-male of a pack, he was always at the head where he could keep an eye out for any danger on the horizon. Now those eyes were occupied with searching for a hint of his friends, and the beating of his heart sounded like a clock ticking down to some unforeseeable doom.

He dragged his feet down the hall to the next room. All right, this was it. If no one had come to see what the racket was about, he was going to assume that the apartment building was, indeed, empty. Yes, that meant he had just wasted all of this time screaming at a nonexistent crowd. Fabulous.

He didn’t bother to check the next door. Instead, he strode past it towards the stairs, fully intent on leaving. But his ears picked up the slightest sound; so soft and quiet, like a smothered gasp. Terra stiffened. His fingers flexed, itching to summon his keyblade. He ignored the urge, taking careful steps forwards. One of the doors had creaked open on its own, and it beckoned him.

“Hello?” His voice echoed. He raised a hand, still unsure whether to proceed, and almost shut the door instead. However, the second his knuckles brushed the wood, the door sprung open with a bang, rousing dust from its resting place. Terra hovered in the doorway as it settled, staring into the darkness.

Well, the door was open now, and it wasn’t his fault. Surely, he couldn’t be blamed for being a little curious (although he was sure Aqua would have something to say). The hair on his arms stood on end as he crossed the threshold; it felt like he was a burglar reaching towards his prize, excited and terrified that some magic would raise the alarm. But there was no alarm here, only the sound of his breathing and the light of his flashlight.

It was dark. Terra went forth cautiously, as deliberate in his movements as a man tiptoeing around a sleeping bear. As far as he could see, the place was plain. There were no fancy decorations, nor any pictures. The walls were blank save for the occasional stain; the floor, bare.

Static met his ears. Drawn to the noise, Terra found himself crossing into another room. This one, unlike the rest, was dimly lit in a blue hue that only seemed to make the shadows grow darker. An armchair sat in the middle, much-used guessing by the wear he saw. Directly in front of it was a television. Although the only thing the screen displayed were grey and white flickers, Terra stared, entranced. He hadn’t seen one of these since he’d left his home for the Land of Departure, and then only when he had snuck into the rich areas. Bright lights continued to pop in his vision after he wrenched his gaze away.

A faint reflection caught his attention. He hadn’t noticed when he first walked in, but there was a coffee table at the foot of the armchair. He wasn’t quite sure what the objects atop of it were, but the way they gleamed told him enough: valuable. Of course, stealing was not on the agenda, and gold and silver were worthless to him when he paid in munny.

He picked up one of the objects anyways. He wasn’t going to keep it, honestly. Besides, he had little use for a watch and lazily, he rolled it between his fingers.

There was a thump. It was a sound similar to one of those times where Ven ran straight into a wall. Despite the impossibility of that event, Terra found his pulse quickening. The watch dropped from his hand, clanging upon the glass table as he made his way back to the entrance. The change was immediately noticeable; the hall closet’s door had opened, and a lump slumped against the opposing wall. A lump that was warm to the touch.

Even before Terra shone the flashlight upon it, he knew exactly what he’d find. The anticipation made the shock a little easier to bear, though he still flinched as the light revealed a man. This body, thankfully, was in better shape than the first. The only visible wound was a slash to the neck, where the blood had long stopped flowing and hardened in a grisly frame. The path extended from there to the man’s shoulder and down his chest, soaking his crisp white shirt. The eyes were still open; in death, they were fixed upon a knife that was embedded handle-up in the floor.

The blade’s edge was jagged, more like a saw than a knife. It resisted his pull, scraping against the wood, forcing out splinters as it fought against him. It only slid halfway out until it stalled completely, but Terra could still see the signs of the knife’s role. He left it where it was, the blade still trembling slightly from his previous efforts. The interior of the closet - or to be specific, what wasn’t inside - demanded his concentration now. The man’s clothes, still damp, spoke of a large loss of blood, yet the place the body was purported to be hidden was clean. It was a fact Terra found impossible to accept, unless, of course, it hadn’t been the weight of the dead that forced the door open, but a pair of hands. It made sense to him then that someone had waited inside the closet, struck once to great effect, and ran. However, with that explanation, Terra found himself at a loss to explain why he hadn’t heard a thing, or why the blood was concentrated only on the man and not his surroundings.

As Terra fell deeper and deeper into thought, the body seemed to fade in front of him. Instead, he saw the same man standing, alive and well, smoothing his shirt with the same dedication that a man polished his medals. Yes, Terra could imagine exactlywhat happened. It was surreal how the vision played in front of him, as if his own thoughts were projected into the air. The man with the white shirt opened his closet, but wait, there was a boy inside. Younger and smaller, yes, but these were forbidden grounds. The man grabbed at him; the boy fought back. They struggled, and then the serrated knife materialized out of thin air. The boy swung, seemingly unaware that it wasn’t only his fist flying towards the man’s neck. The blade made contact, _tore_.

His mouth went dry; Terra watched with horror, with the sinking feeling of déjà vu. The man’s head rolled to the side, too stunned to express anything but surprise. And another face flashed in place of his, a boyish face with the same expression. The background had never been important to Terra, but now it was filling in. The blackness gave way not to stark apartment walls, but of a wide expanse filled with boxes and crates. Someone behind him shouted words that made sense one moment, then were nonsense the next. And through it all, there was the sound of scraping, like something heavy was being dragged, getting closer and closer . . .

Static broke him out of his trance. A black box from the pocket of the white shirt emitted the noise, similar to the one that had come from the television earlier. The noise continued to intensify. Of its own violation, his arm rose, his hand grabbed.

Just as he held the box up to eye-level, a shriek ripped through the air. Terra cried out, hands flying to cover his ears. His heart stuttered, nearly shocked into stopping. The air changed, and he rolled away just in time for something to fling past him into the wall. The shriek stopped. The creature backed away, snuffling, hypnotising red eyes meeting his. It had a heavyset body, low to the ground with a long whip-like tail behind. It didn’t seem dangerous, but when it opened its mouth, that shriek came again, and Terra found himself lashing out. Flames flew from his fingertips. His ears rang as the world elapsed into silence once more.

Great; who knew what kind of things that noise had awoken? Terra leaned against the wall, rubbing his forehead as his headache grew. All he wanted was to find his friends and a nice, warm bed. Maybe a shower, too. He moved away from the wall, groaning as something crunched underfoot. What now?

It looked to be an open wallet. One half sported a name and picture, the other what was now a cracked badge. Terra didn’t need to look at the picture to know to whom the wallet belonged to. He crouched down, wiping some dirt so that he could read the name.

The ID read _Officer_ –

His mind shut down.

He crushed the wallet in his fist. Memories battered his mind, flashing in such rapid succession that he couldn’t recall anything apart from them. He swallowed thickly; the wallet dropped to the ground. When he regained control, his hands were shaking.

_It’s not the same man_ , he told himself. He literally had to fight his own limbs to get them to move again. His hand jerked towards the wallet, then faltered, then inched forwards. Terra was determined to see that ID, to confirm that this was a man he had never before encountered.

The walls shook. This time, Terra didn’t wait for the danger to reveal itself before he summoned his keyblade. He stood, exiting the apartment as the static began anew.

They were easily visible, even in the dark. Their eyes glowed, like an animal’s eyes reflecting firelight. He was ready this time, and only grimaced as they howled. They charged, and Terra held Earthshaker steady, only to blink in surprise as they wove their way around him. There they sat, stout heads swinging from side to side, hissing when he even thought about moving towards them.

Their shrieks were no longer constant, that was a relief, though they still came occasionally. It was like chirping of a bird, shouting “I’m here” to all. Despite the fact that one had just attacked him moments before in the apartment, Terra amused himself by rocking back and forth on his heel, grinning as they alternatively hissed and went silent.

But that was enough. If the shrieks didn’t bring Aqua running, then she probably wasn’t here.  And Terra really wanted to get out of this place. He sighed as the creatures blocked his path; well, at least he’d be able to vent a little.

They scattered as he swung, though they came back with teeth bared. Terra stopped their attacks easily, but was too slow on the counter to actually get rid of them. It was a stalemate of sorts, with every step he gained being countered by one he took back. He was getting a little pissed off now.

 It was only when he noticed a pattern that apprehension started to kick in. They weren’t attacking, but _delaying_ , holding him in place. But for what?

A cold chill brushed the back of his neck.

He turned.

Unlike the others, this creature (more of a monster, really) was hard to discern. All he could see was that it was standing at the end of the hallway behind him, that it was bigger than him and filled the entire hall. What little light there was outlined a slanted head, like the slopes of a pyramid. Behind that, Terra knew, were eyes that were fixed upon him, nothing else. And as Terra met the unseen stare of this _thing_ , utter fear took over.

He swung Earthshaker so hard and so fast that his shoulders ached. But it got the job done; the howling creatures vanished into smoke and Terra hurtled down the hall. The body in the apartment, the creatures, his _friends_ were forgotten as he ran. All he was aware of was that he had to get away.

Behind, the monster with a pyramid-shaped head didn’t move.

Terra hurdled down the stairs, taking the steps three at a time. He burst into the main entrance, this time failing to keep his balance as he tried to tackle those stairs, too.

“ _Have something to hide?_ ”

He whipped around, searching for the voice’s source. At last, he felt inside his pocket and picked out the black box that had been on the man’s body. He frowned; he didn’t remember dropping it in his pocket. Eraqus had told him never to take things from other worlds that weren’t a gift. He must have put it there though; why else would he have it?

He heard something from the floor above him. It was a scraping sound, like that which came from the laborious sharpening of a sword. Then the mystery was forgotten as instinct demanded his immediate departure.

It was even colder outside than before. Terra rubbed his hands together, steam rising from his mouth. Desperately, he checked the shed again, but Aqua wasn’t anywhere to be found.

The shed walls shielded him from the wind, but Terra felt no difference in the icy chill sweeping up his spine. He collapsed at the desk, head in his hands. This was a disaster. How on earth had he messed up a simple mission so easily?

“Ven,” he snorted, but his curse was half-hearted. He couldn’t help but think of this as his fault, that along the way, there had been some warning he had missed or some precaution he had forgotten. Had he slept too deeply yesterday, so that he wouldn’t have woken up in time if they had been attacked? Too far away to notice if anything went amiss, maybe? The possibilities were giving him a massive headache.

_"Terra?_ ”

  That was Ven. Terra jumped, throwing the shed doors open. “Ven!” he shouted into the fog.

_"Where are you?”_

“Right here. Don’t move! I’ll come find you!”

“ _Terra? Terra, is that you? I’m really freaked out, right now!_ ”

“Don’t move; I’m coming to you!”

Ven’s voice crackled. It wasn’t a natural sound and almost at once, Terra knew why.

“Ven,” he said into the black box, “what do you see?”

“ _A building, a big one_.” Terra’s heart deflated as he received confirmation that Ven’s voice came from the box and not from somewhere close by. “ _It’s a clinic: Ridge-something._ ” There were a few moments of silence before Ven spoke again. “ _You and Aqua are coming to get me?_ ”he asked timidly.

“Yes,” he grunted, “I’m coming. Just stay put.”

“ _What about Aqua?_ ” Terra swore and evidently, Ven heard. “ _What did you say?_ ” he said.“ _Aqua’s there, right? Terra, where is she; I want to talk to her!_ ”

“We got separated,” he admitted, “but after I come get you, we’ll go find her. Understand, Ven?”

Ven didn’t answer. Terra didn’t think much of it, figuring that Ven was trying to think of some way to convince Terra to look for Aqua first (like that was going to happen; he was worried about her, but she could take care of herself more than Ven could). The box continued to pop with the occasional static. It was reassuring, letting Terra know that connection with Ven was still there. Unconsciously, his left hand cradled his Wayfinder as he studied the map. The closest thing he could find matching Ven’s description was a clinic, which happily, wasn’t too far away.

_One down, one to go_ , he thought as he folded the map up and put it away.

The box crackled as he took his first steps into the street. The wind howled around him, stirring up snow in a giant cloud. Strangely, none of it actually came near him; his face remained untouched. It was like being trapped in a protective bubble. As if to make up for it, the sounds from the box became louder, and more and more ominous.

“Ven, what’s going on there?”

The groan of metal. Then what came from the box was not Ven’s voice, but an explosion. Though its source was tiny, the commotion saturated the air. Timber was snapping, metal screeching, Terra heard it all.

And the sound of sirens.

"Ven!” he hollered.

_"Terr-_ ”

And nothing. Not even static.

“No!” Terra shook the box, nearly squeezing it in half. “Ven!”

Nothing.

Terra didn’t even bother to recheck the map. Fear guided him, sending him barrelling down roads with no concerns of what beasts lay in the shadows. He was going to save Ven, and let the gods help whoever got in his way.


	7. Chapter 7

“I’d be completely lost if it wasn’t for you,” Ven said, arms crossed behind his head.

Xion bit her lip and looked away. Ven had noticed that she tended to become flustered whenever he thanked her, as if she wasn’t used to it. That was why Ven had decided to thank and compliment her as many times as possible.

“I mean how do you even know where we are? If the Land of Departure had this much fog, I’d be lost in an instant - according to Terra, at least.”

“Is the Land of Departure a big world?” Xion asked.

Ven nodded eagerly. “Yeah, sure is! Hey, you know about other . . . ?”

“Ven, look!” She pointed over his shoulder. He turned immediately.

Terra and Aqua probably would have said that the clinic wasn’t very big, but to Ven, who only knew the castle and some small huts from his brief experiences with other worlds, anything with more than one room was big; anything that took him more than a minute to run through was _huge_. Ridgeview Clinic looked like it could keep him occupied for that amount of time.

Ven took off. “Race you!”

The building’s doors shoved against him, so that by the time Ven had forced them open, Xion had strolled past him.

“Not fair,” he pouted.

The inside was dimly lit. From the center of the reception area, Ven could barely make out the ends of the branching halls. Dust motes floated by the windows, hovering near shredded curtains. He didn’t think the clinic was that dirty, but when he placed his hand on the wall, it left a visible print.

“I haven’t been here for a long time,” Xion murmured.

“Good thing,” Ven said, “it’s kind of a mess.”

Xion frowned. She stared sadly through the doorway at the outside world. “Most places are.”

“Well, you could give this place a fresh coat of paint, and I bet it would look great. I could help! This one time, me and Terra were sparring in the castle, and he missed and made a huge hole in the wall.” Ven spread his arms out for emphasis, grinning. “The Master made us fix and paint it – without magic!”

Xion said, “You and Terra sound really close.”

Ven nodded feverishly. “Terra’s awesome! And Aqua is, too!”

A silence ensured. Xion kept looking at him oddly. Ven squirmed. It felt like those times where Aqua would stare accusingly at him after he secretly ate some of her cookies when she set them out to cool (however, he had perfected his “innocent” face, so Terra always ended up getting blamed instead).

Finally, she said, “It must be nice to have friends.”

Something in his chest twisted. “You don’t have friends?”

Xion didn’t say anything, but that was enough of an answer. Even before he registered that, Ven stepped forwards, taking her hands within his own. Xion gasped, staring at that, and then raised her chin so that they looked each other in the face.

“You have a friend: me,” Ven said softly.

Xion’s hands tensed inside his own. Slowly, they relaxed again and as they did, the tension on her face faded. “Friends,” she agreed.

The moment was shattered by a door slamming open. Xion leapt away from him, staring down one of the dark halls. “Let’s go,” she said curtly, heading that way.

“Xion, what’s wrong? You keep acting funny.”

“Nothing.”

But this time, Ven wasn’t going to be swayed. “That’s not true,” he insisted. “Something’s wrong. Xion, it’s okay; you can tell me. I’ll help you, and I’ll get Terra and Aqua to help too!”

“Ven, please, stop worrying.”

“But you’re my friend, right?”

She smiled. “I am, but that doesn’t mean you can help me.”

_We’ll see about that_ , he thought, vowing to keep an eye on her. As a final resort, he put on his cutest face and whimpered, “Please.”

Xion’s conviction visibly wavered. He bet that if she were older like Aqua, she would have totally caved. As it was, she performed the impossible and resisted him.

“No,” she said, and Ven couldn’t help but smile as she laughed. And over her shoulder, in the darkness beyond, a figure stirred . . .

“Watch out!” Ven pushed her behind him, his arms outstretched to block the hall. He wasn’t even sure what he was defending her from, only that something in the person’s movements had triggered a violent reaction.

It was a person right? Whatever it was, it was naked, but that awkward realization was minimized by the lack of any features. Sure, it had a head and legs, but no face or hair, and its arms looked to be welded to the torso; they were folded upward, like someone hugging themselves, so that the shoulders appeared extraordinarily large compared to the thin waist. The thing moved clumsily, like there was only one bone for each leg. Liquid dropped from a hole in the chest where the heart would be, hissing as it dripped upon the ground.

Xion cried out. The thing bent at the waist, thrashing like an animal in its death throes. Then the chest was thrown out, and the skin around the hole gleamed. Ven didn’t know exactly what kind of acid sprayed from the hole, but he jumped back regardless, yanking Xion back too.

The hissing grew in intensity. Part of the wall had been caught in the stream and as Ven watched, the surface shrivelled up and died, leaving great scars behind. The floor didn’t fare any better. The wood cracked and popped as pathways drilled through it to the earth. Ven summoned his keyblade, holding it protectively in front of him.

“Aero!” he shouted.

The spell sent the thing rolling across the ground like a tumbleweed. Ven pumped his fist in victory, but his joy was cut short when the thing stumbled to its feet. He held Wayward Wind at the ready, but he didn’t want to get too close. The thing’s entire body seemed to be dripping, as if it had dove in a pool.

“Ven, go, I’ll -”

He cut her off. “Not a chance.” He planted his feet, twisting at the waist so all the strength of his shoulders and hips went into the throw. Wayward Wind shot towards his foe, spinning. The blade sliced through the thing’s midsection, and the severed torso flew up into the as its lower half crashed to the ground. Acid poured from both ends, settling in a bubbling pool between.

Ven shivered. His insides twisted. “I didn’t mean to do that. . .”

He stepped back into Xion, who placed her hand on his shoulder. At the touch, Ven’s emotions calmed.

The bubbling ceased. The thing’s body broke apart, like a shattered glass figurine, and the acid swallowed up the bits and pieces. Soon that too soaked into the ground; strangely, it didn’t eat away at the wood like it had before.

“What was that?” he asked.

Ven didn’t expect an answer, but Xion surprised him. “A lying figure,” she said. “It was sent. . .” she gulped, and Ven coaxed her into continuing. “. . . I’m sure it was sent to punish me.”

“You?” he exclaimed. “Someone sent this after you?”

Xion backed up. Her left hand rubbed her other arm so intensely that it looked more like she was trying to make herself bleed. He reached for her, but she shied away. “Probably. Ven, I’m not a good person.”

“That’s not true!” He lowered his arms in a swipe. “I don’t believe that.”

“Ven-”

He went on. “I don’t care who you are; no one should be sending monsters after people.” Ven moved forwards and Xion shifted back, clearly intending to keep some distance between them. But Ven quickened his pace until he stood in front of her. “See this?” He called his keyblade back to him. Although it had been in the thick of the acidic mist, there wasn’t a single scratch on it. “I’m a keyblade warrior; Master says it’s my job to help people. Just give me a chance, please.”

Ven waited patiently for Xion to speak. But instead of doing that, she lunged at him. Ven almost yelped as her arms wrapped around his shoulders. Her head was buried in his chest, black hair hiding her face. His own arms slid around her back.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured over and over.

He closed his eyes. There had to be _something_ he could do to help her. She was so sad; he couldn’t leave her like this. He wished Aqua were here. She had always been great at comforting him when he was upset.

“You don’t have to apologize. I want to help.”

"It’s not that, Ven.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “It’s because I know why we’re here.”

“You do? Cool.”

She shook her head.

He supposed that Xion knew where they were going when she took the lead. There was no light in the clinic except for that which passed through the windows, so they walked from one beam of light to the next. They gave one side of Xion’s face an ethereal glow, and Ven found himself twisting to get a better look. At last, she stopped in front of the door, leaning down to pick up a black feather.

She whispered, “This is why.”

Ven stood on his tiptoes, trying to glance through the murky window. The doorknob was warm to the touch. The door swung open with a bang, vibrating as it hit the wall. While the side by the door was dark and forbidding, the other half of the room, that by the window looking outside, was bright. It was almost like an invisible line had been drawn, splitting the room into day and night. Directly underneath the window was a white bed, the sheets fresh-looking and neat as if someone had just replaced them.

“Ven, wait . . .” Xion trailed off. Her hand found his, pressing something hard into his palm. He looked down; she had passed him a small black box, which he ran his thumb over as she pulled away. “It’s a radio,” she said, “keep it with you.”

“I can keep it? Awesome! But what does it do?”

“When it makes noise, run.”

He blinked. “Huh?”

“Are you going inside?” she said pointedly.

Ven did just that, although with a bit of flair. He’d bounded over the room’s invisible line when the door clicked shut.  He paused, surprised, wondering why Xion hadn’t come in with him and what was so private that she felt the need to shut the door. There was nothing in here except for the bed.

“ _Please don’t do this, Master. I’m not strong enough_.”

What? Who said that? Ven spun around, only to find that he was alone. The voice had been familiar, though certainly too deep to belong to Xion. Its owner’s name was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t quite remember.

“ _You must! If you do not let the storm within you run its course, it will wipe you from the face of the world, make no mistake_!”

He twitched, violently. His keyblade flashed into existence without his command.

“ _Do it. Embrace the darkness_.”

Ven screamed.

It was like some vicious animal had gained access to his mind, roaring and clawing where it could. Blurry images passed in front of him, of empty lands and shadowy figures, and an old man with yellow eyes staring down at him. His entire world narrowed down to that man, whose eyes captured him in a hold he couldn’t resist. The shadowy figures passed in and out of his field of vision, but he was only aware of the old man who was slowly walking towards him.

“ _Forge the X-blade_.”

Ven couldn’t move. His feet were rooted to the spot, although it mattered little; he didn’t have the mind to command them. He was floundering in a sea of fear, as wild and vicious as a tempest. The old man approached, and Ven felt the vibrations of every step. His body was on alert, tense, begging to run, but his eyes couldn’t break away from that face.

_Xehanort_ , the wind whispered to him. Ven knew without thinking that was the old man’s name, that was the man his Master had asked him to find, and that contrary to his previous beliefs, they had met before.

Xehanort reached for him.

“NO!”

Pain shot up his back as he crashed against the wall. The old man’s eyes seemed to glow, so that the rest of the world became shades of gold. Ven shut his eyes, keyblade slipping from his fingers.

_Leave me alone_ , he pleaded, _go away_. He cried out for Terra and Aqua, huddling his head up against his knees so that he appeared to shrink in size. 

“Pathetic.” A chuckle followed that word.

That was a new voice. Ven hesitantly took a peek. Xehanort was gone, and in his place, a masked boy leaned against the wall. He wore a strange black and red bodysuit that bent and moved with his body like a second skin.

“Who are you?” Ven asked.

In the mask, Ven could only see the reflection of his own frightened face, but he certainly heard the other boy’s smirk. “Vanitas,” he answered.

Ven pulled himself up, rubbing his arm as a sudden chill swept over him. Vanitas watched his every movement. Unnerved, Ven stared in the opposite direction, but Vanitas’ hidden stare continued to bore holes in his back. It was a very unpleasant feeling.

As Vanitas idly examined his gloved hand, Ven asked, “Did you see that man?”

“Who?” It was an innocent question, yet Vanitas still managed to lace it with scorn.

“Xe-Xehanort.”

Vanitas laughed again, and this time there was no mistaking the malice it held. “Not for a long time. But let me guess: he was talking about the X-Blade.”

Goosebumps rose on his arms.

“Scared?” Vanitas pushed away from the wall. “How predictable, although it doesn’t matter since you won’t be around for much longer.”

Ven scooped up Wayward Wind and jumped as he realized he already was against the wall.

“Once you enter Silent Hill, there’s no turning back. Sooner or later, the darkness will swallow your soul.” Vanitas bowed his head, his arms stretched out to the side so that he looked like a prophet listening to some divine messenger. Dark flames flickered on his arms. “And I will finally be complete.”

The darkness licked at Ven’s heart, leaving burning ice-cold trails. He clutched at his chest, stumbling past Vanitas towards the door. Vanitas did nothing, didn’t even turn to watch his progress, until Ven’s hand touched the knob.

“So, you’re going to run,” Vanitas said. “Good choice. Who cares about friends when you can save your own skin?”

Ven whipped around. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

The mask tilted to one side, his fingers tapped his chin as Vanitas pretended to think over the answer. “Haven’t you heard? Terra and Aqua are looking for you. By now, I think they’ve realized that something’s wrong with this town, but you know how heroes of light are: they always want to get to the bottom of things.”

His voice dropped suddenly, so that it sounded to Ven like a demon was speaking. “And curiosity kills the cat.”

“You’re wrong!” Ven shouted. “Nothing’s strong enough to beat them.”

“Are you sure?” Ven gasped as Xehanort’s image flickered behind Vanitas.

“You’re wrong,” Ven repeated, but already he sounded uncertain.

Vanitas clicked his tongue. “Oh, Ventus.” Ven cringed at his name. “You’re just a lost mutt, aren’t you?” He leaned forwards. “What’s that in your pocket?”

Ven pulled out the radio, holding it on his outstretched palm for Vanitas to see.

“I didn’t tell her to give that to you.”

Ven’s chin snapped up. “You know Xion?” Was this boy the reason she was so unhappy?

“I think you should worry about your other friends, Ventus, unless they really don’t mean that much to you.” Ven didn’t think he had changed expressions, but Vanitas suddenly laughed at him. “That’s what I thought. Go on, call to them, maybe they’ll hear you.”

It didn’t make any sense that they would, but Vanitas was staring at him so expectantly that Ven knew that something was different. “Terra?” he said, confused. He was about to ask for Aqua, when the radio came to life. Like a spitting cat, it hissed and crackled, until a single syllable cut through the chaos.

“ _Ven!_ ”

Terra? “Where are you?” he asked.

“ _Right here. Don’t move! I’ll come find you_!”

It sounded like Terra, but the radio warped his voice so that he couldn’t be certain. “Terra? Terra, is that you? I’m really freaked out, right now!” Ven blushed, regretting that last statement as he glanced at Vanitas.

“ _Don’t move; I’m coming to you_! _Ven, what do you see?”_

“A building, a big one. It’s a clinic: Ridge-something _._ ” Ridge Medical Center? No, no that. There was a ‘clinic’ in there, but he was sure there was something else as well. “You and Aqua are coming to get me, right?”

Terra answered in the affirmative, and Ven had just begun to relax when Vanitas snickered. “Yes, _he_ will,” the masked boy sneered.

“Aqua,” he whispered. In a louder voice, he said into the radio, “What about Aqua?”

Terra mumbled something too low for Ven to understand, but he did understand the sudden glee radiating from the masked boy. “What did you say?” Ven demanded. “Aqua’s there, right? Terra, where is she; I want to talk to her!”

Ven thought his heart would stop as Terra admitted, “ _We got separated, but after I come get you, we’ll go find her. Understand, Ven?_ ”

And Vanitas was suddenly much, much too close. “There’s no need, really,” Vanitas hissed into his ear. “She’ll be well taken care of; they both will be. I’ll personally make sure of it.”

It was too much. With a wild cry, the radio fell from his fingers and he flung himself at Vanitas. Vanitas slipped out of the way, laughing. Ven swung, but his keyblade was stopped in a burst of darkness; Vanitas had summoned a dark keyblade and locked it against his. They pushed against each other as the radio shouted in the background.

That’s when the first of the sirens howled.

Vanitas flicked his wrist, and Ven’s keyblade went flying, impaling itself in the wall. Ven gulped, calling what magic he had to the surface, but Vanitas opted not to press his advantage. Instead, he wandered away with the words, “And so it begins.”

The ceiling nearly fell on top of him. Ven leapt back from the mass of burning metal, looking up before he even registered that the other boy was still wielding his weapon. The ceiling was burning, the flames spreading to the wall. It ate away at the metal, turning it black and twisted as chunks dropped away. They collided with wispy strips of the floor as they peeled away, uncovering a new one made of steel mesh through which Ven could see a violent inferno far below.

“What’s happening?” he squeaked, barely audible over the sirens. From the radio, Terra asked a similar question.

Vanitas said nothing. He glided over the dying floor, through the falling flames and plaster as if he were a ghost. With a flick of his dark keyblade, he tossed the radio up off the ground and into his hand, where he held it tight in his fist.

“Give that back, please,” Ven begged.

Vanitas didn’t even acknowledge his plead. He glowered at the radio instead as Terra shouted Ven’s name. “You’re an apprentice, aren’t you, Ventus? Someday, you might even be a keyblade master. And masters shouldn’t need a safety blanket.”

Ven was halfway through Terra’s name before Vanitas smashed the radio against the floor.

As Ven stood mute with horror, Vanitas smirked, “As fun as that was, I think I’ll go see what your friends are doing. Don’t worry, I’ll say hi for you.”

Behind the masked boy, a dark portal opened. Ven lunged, but even his speed wasn’t enough to prevent Vanitas from disappearing into the darkness. But that was the least of his worries, as all around him, shadowy figures were beginning to rise.

“Neoshadows,” he whispered, his mind blanking out as once again, blurry memories assaulted him.

One stood, flexing its fingers like they were wrapped around his throat. Its burning yellow eyes were fixed on his chest, filled with a wild hunger. He could feel others gathering around, their presence tightening against him.

And they leapt.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is no connection between Xemnas, Xehanort and Terra in this story

The wind pounded on her back, almost like hands pushing her forward. Aqua stood at the base of the stone stairs, staring up at the structure before her. It was almost identical to Naminé's drawing: a massive stone church with a cross proudly erected on top; wooden doors much larger than her; and a gloomy, oppressive air that reminded her of a prison. It was not at all the sort of place she would associate with Ven, and she hoped that he had the foresight not to wander off.

She had passed through the graveyard already, through row upon row of crosses. It was disturbing how many of them there were when she considered how many townspeople she had actually met. Clearly, this place was very old - the run-down buildings would attest to that – and she pitied those who had been born and died here, never realizing the darkness of the town they lived in. She still felt it around her, although it fled like a shy animal whenever she really tried to grasp it. Whatever it was though, Aqua was certain that it played a part in the strange occurrences that Ansem was investigating.

A raven ceased preening as she advanced up the stairs. Warily, it watched her, but made no move to flee as she passed. Perhaps it was a tame bird, waiting for someone to throw it scraps.

She looked back at the graveyard and couldn't help but wonder what _kind_ of scraps.

The doors stood before her. Aqua raised her hand to knock, but hesitated. Her confidence faltered, and dread rushed in to fill the space. She didn't know why she felt that way, but she had to struggle to keep Rainfell from materializing. It wouldn't do good to greet the people inside with a weapon in hand; and she was going inside. She had to. Ven was there.

Not that her decision mattered. The doors opened by themselves, and Aqua squinted as a brilliant light hit her square in the face. A hooded figure stood in the center of the doorway.

Aqua broke the silence. "Hello?"

The figure said nothing. A gust of cool air tore past them, rustling Aqua's clothes, but failing to do the same to the figure's cloak. The figure was absolutely still, silent, like an illusion her stressed mind had conjured.

Then, suddenly, the figure moved and in one fluid motion, unveiled his face. Aqua shook her head, unsure of what it was she was seeing. Had she not known better, she would have wondered if this was Terra's father. This man was older than her friend, with silver hair and orange eyes, but the resemblance was uncanny.

"I was wondering when you would arrive," the man said.

She blinked. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"Personally, no, but a mutual friend has had much to say about you, Aqua." Hearing her name come from this man gave her a weird feeling she didn't understand. As if sensing this, the man smiled. "My name is Xemnas, and it is with great pleasure that I welcome you to Silent Hill."

"Yes, it's a . . . unusual place," she said for lack of a better description.

"Indeed. Darkness can conceal many things within its folds."

He _knew_? Xemnas raised his hand in a silencing gesture before she could absorb this. His steps were silent as he retreated back into the church, cloak billowing behind him. Down the aisle they went, past pew upon pew. Xemnas stopped on the altar, where a ratty book sat upon a lonely stand. He stroked the old book's spine as above, a stained glass mural looked down on him. "What brought you here?" he asked. "It is not often that the town attracts one such as yourself, less so that they are drawn here of all places. Tell me; I am most curious."

"I'm looking for a friend of mine named Ventus. I was told that he was here."

"Ventus." His fingers tightened their grip on the book. "You are his friend?"

"Yes, we've known each other for years. He wandered off yesterday night and my other companion, Terra, and I have been looking for him. You wouldn't have happened to see anyone named Terra, have you?" she added.

Xemnas' face remained impassive, but something changed in the air between them. His eyes seemed to darken, narrow like a wolf's as it gazed upon a fallen deer. "The name Terra rings no bells, but I have spoken to Ventus in this very place."

"He's here!"

"Perhaps. He disappeared from my sight some time ago." Aqua sighed; of course Ven did. "He may be somewhere out there, or he may be exploring the depths of the church."

She might as well thoroughly search the church before she left. "Is he was still here, where would I find him?"

"Come." He beckoned her. "I will show you."

The air crackled as his hand swiped through it. She thought she saw tiny sparks, although they vanished so quickly that she couldn't be sure. She was sure, however, that the floor was folding away. Like a carpet being rolled up, the floor of the altar was torn away to reveal stairs underneath that carried a musty smell of mulch.

"Should Ventus still be in this building, it would be down here."

She nodded her thanks and began the descent.

No torches lined the walls, nor did any magic guide her way. Yet she could see perfectly; nothing was hidden from her here. Maybe the light was from the place she had entered, where the church's light shone through. Or, perhaps, it was from the bottom of the stairs where stone gave way to slick glass. The room here was perfectly circular, and the glass floor glowed with its own light. The walls and ceiling were pitch-black so that it seemed she was suspended in the middle of space. Never before had Aqua set foot in this town or its church, but the glass underneath felt familiar nonetheless.

"The Station of Awakening," she whispered.

A voice, the same one she had heard when she first fell asleep dreaming of her keyblade, murmured in the back of her mind. It whispered to her as she made her way to the center of the room, asking where her heart laid and what she would do to defend those that mattered.

_Warrior of light . . ._

Aqua closed her eyes and the voice grew in volume. But it was not one now, but several, drowning each other out as they scrambled to be heard. The voices grew and grew, hissing about light and darkness, clashing, and then went silent. A beat passed, before one spoke again.

_Beware, the closer you are to light, the darker your shadow becomes._

She couldn't help but glance down at her shadow. She frowned in confusion. The shadow seemed normal to her, although it was hard to tell as that part of the glass was black and red. It was an odd sight as all times previous, her Station of Awakening had used blue as its primary colour. Her eyes began to trace the outline of the black and red image, but were quickly drawn back to her shadow, which was undeniably becoming darker. It wasn't from anything she had consciously done; no, the light of the Station had swelled, dazzling her with its brilliance. Aqua covered her eyes, shut them tight, but even that didn't seem to be enough to block it.

And in the cover the light brought, something stirred.

A great mass slammed into her. She was flung across the glass, sliding to a stop near the edge. Before she even had time to summon Rainfell, the monster was upon her. Its hot breath blasted her in the face, and she held her arm up in an effort to defend her head. Teeth sunk into her arm instead.

Her back was pressed against the glass. There was still too much light to see; all she knew that whatever was attacking her was very big and had hold of her. Aqua grit her teeth as the monster adjusted its hold, its fangs shifting in her flesh.

"Firaga!"

The close contact meant that the spell rebounded. The force pushed her hair back and dried the sweat on her forehead, but it also hit its mark. She clutched her bleeding arm to her chest as the monster reeled back. The noise it made was like the hiss of air escaping a balloon, and flesh smacked against the glass as it stomped about. And she still couldn't see. Her keyblade was in her hand, but it was useless when she couldn't tell whom it was she fought. She slowly backed away from the hissing, hesitating when her heel clicked against a wall.

The hissing died for an instant, as if the monster was trying to hear her. Quickly, she reminded herself where she last heard the beast, and sent a Thunder spell raining down. The lightning cracked, and the hissing began again, only this time the floor vibrated as it thrashed.

One hand on the wall, Aqua felt her way around. The monster had ceased its convulsions, clicking softly as it slithered towards her. She still couldn't see, but some instinct inside her reacted as the monster reared, and that instinct brought her keyblade up in a Reflect spell; the barrier shuddered as it bore the monster's weight and Aqua stumbled, using her keyblade as a crutch as the barrier's strain went through her.

The monster wrestled with the spell a little while longer, then drew back and slammed into it. Again, Aqua stumbled. She began to move more hurriedly, worried that her magical reserves would soon be depleted.

She didn't find the staircase, she fell into it instead. The moment she touched the steps, there was a sense of breaching some intangible border, almost the sense of doing something _wrong_. The monster hissed behind her, but that seemed to become fainter and fainter, and as she carefully opened her eyes, she saw that the light, too, had diminished. She snapped her head around just in time to see the monster's long tail leave the Station, as if it had been swallowed up by the wall.

Her right hand was wet as she held it above her bleeding arm. Underneath her palm, the edges of her wounds knitted back together with the green glow of a healing spell. Soon the wounds were gone, but the blood that was already spilt remained. In the patches of her skin that weren't red, the flesh underneath was bruised black.

Xemnas was waiting for her when she climbed back up to the church. His attention quickly settled on her left arm, taking in every inch of the bloody appendage. His head tilted to the side a little, almost like a curious puppy; but his expression held no friendly concern, only the cold, calculating gaze of the dog's forefather. Aqua missed that though, her attention on the warm liquid on her hand, and by the time she looked up, Xemnas had settled his features into an expression of indifference.

"I do not believe that you had possessed those wounds when you entered my church."

"There was a monster down there," she said quietly. The unasked question of _Did you know?_ floated between them.

"A monster, you say. I have been down there many times, and never has my weapon against clashed against another." Xemnas shook his head, as if he were a parent listening to the exaggerated tales from his five-year old son. "But come, I have supplies to dress those wounds."

"It's fine," Aqua said. "They're already healed." Really, all she wanted to do was leave.

And Xemnas was suddenly close. Too close. Aqua stepped back, but Xemnas stepped forwards without pause, maintaining the same distance. "Healed?" he echoed. Aqua jumped as his fingers suddenly touched the spot where she had been bitten; she hadn't even seen his hand move. "Indeed, they are cured on the outside," he agreed, "but the inside. . ."

She pushed his hand away, finally putting some distance between them. "What is that place?" she asked.

"The center, the heart of the church; you may say it is the heart of Silent Hill as well. And if that stands true, then it only stands to reason it is the heart of darkness."

"Then the heart of darkness holds an awfully large amount of light."

Xemnas peered down at her. "Is that what it looked like to you?"

She had no answer to that.

Xemnas went on. "I suppose that, considering your circumstances, it is reasonable that you would see light. Yes, if your previous encounters were full of it, why would it change now?"

"I've never been here before."

"No," Xemnas said after a pause, "you have not, but that does not mean that your hearts have never collided." He turned away from her. "There is a well out back," he told her. "Should you desire it, you could wash yourself there."

He smiled at her, and it was not a kind smile. Come to think of it, had any of his smiles been kind? He did not seem troubled by the fact that she failed to return the gesture, no matter how faked it would have been. "I will see you again, Aqua," he promised.

She shuddered.


	9. Chapter 9

So, this was Ridgeview Clinic.

Papers scurried across the ground as Terra threw open the doors. His ragged breathes, as heavy as the pants of some gigantic beast, rocked his body with their force and served as a rhythm for his steps. Gradually, they slowed to match the beating of his heart, which pounded away like a drum of war. And war he was at: war with the monsters, with the town, with the forces that divided him and his friends. There would be no mercy, no restraint until he found them.

His blue eyes flickered with shadows as he took in his surroundings. He was certain this was the place where Ven had called him. The clinic seemed safe enough, but his experiences in this town had taught him never to be sure. They still haunted his mind, the dead men and his terror, but the most frequent ghost was the sirens, the same ones that had been wailing when Ven had spoken to him.

There were no sirens now, nor had the world transformed into that hellish place from before, but still, the fear that the darkness would swallow his friends took hold of him. It hit him in ways he hadn’t thought possible and for once in his lifetime, he felt helpless.

He clenched his fists. _Remember what Eraqus told you: hold true to the light and the darkness will never win._ The shadows in his eyes danced one last time before fading, not that Terra noticed. Earthshaker in hand, he stormed down the halls, his fury building with every step. Even the darkness seemed to bend away as he approached, so great was the power of his rage. Now if only he had a target to aim it at . . .

He heard sobs. His anger gave way to concern; as unmanly as it was, Ven did have a tendency to cry. He cried when he was hurt, cried on Aqua’s shoulder when Terra made fun of him (resulting in a _very_ pissed off Aqua hunting him down), cried when he _really_ wanted Terra to buy him that toy in the shop’s window. Aqua claimed that Ven was also talented at pretending to cry, but Terra had yet to witness it for himself.

He traced the sound to a room just as a hound followed the scent of its prey. “Ven?” He rapped his knuckles on the closed door as the sobs quieted. “Are you in there?”

Politeness dictated that he should wait for Ven to open the door, but impatience and worry ordered the opposite. He pried it open, forcing his way inside. The figure he saw was about the right size, but had the wrong clothing, the wrong hair and most importantly, the wrong gender.

“Uh, hi?” he said intelligently.

The raven-haired girl wiped her eyes. Terra, in his sensitive manner, pointedly looked away. As Aqua was happy to point out, he had never been good at dealing with feelings.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She nodded. Under her black cloak, Terra couldn’t tell if there were any injuries to show otherwise, but her face said enough.

“You shouldn’t be here alone,” he mumbled. After scrutinizing every corner, Terra moved to the center of the room so that he was firmly between the girl and the doorway. The girl’s mouth opened in a silent O.

Terra missed her surprise, staring hard at the bed on her side of the room instead. “Do you live here?”

“Oh, no, not in this room. What is that?” She pointed a finger at Earthshaker, which was dragging by his side.

“This?” Terra hefted Earthshaker up so that it sat on his shoulder. “It’s my keyblade.”

“Keyblade?”

“Yes, it’s, uh . . .” He thought about how to explain.

“You must be Terra, then,” she said quietly.

Terra blinked. “You know me?”

“Yes, Ven told . . .”

The girl’s mouth snapped shut just in time for Terra to whirl around. “You’ve seen Ven?” He demanded. The girl was shaking her head, her hands waved in frantic denial, but Terra did not care about any of that. He advanced on her, unintentionally backing her into a corner, until he was just inches away.

“Where is he?” The girl whimpered as he towered above her. “Where’s Ven?”

“I-I don’t know!”

“You do.” And he was certain that she did. Why, he did not know, but it may have had something to do with the fact that she wouldn’t look him in the eye.

“No, I don’t!”

The girl tried to escape, but Terra placed his hands on the wall to stop her. He leaned in and hissed, “Tell me where he is.”

“Terra, please, I can’t –”

The pent-up anger inside him exploded; Terra drove a fist into the wall with a noise like that of a gunshot, but even that wasn’t loud enough to drown out his words.

“ _Where is Ven_?”

The girl had scrambled to get away from him after his punch landed next to her head. She had failed though, and now she held her arms in front of her in an attempt to protect herself.

“Please!” she sobbed.

His rage froze over. The chill of horror filled him instead. He flexed his hand, staring at the hole in the old wall, then at scratches on his knuckles. _I wouldn’t have really hit her_ , he told himself. But Terra wasn’t sure. Everything that had happened just made him so angry, it was natural he would want to blow off some steam. Without Aqua or Ven to spar with, or monsters to fight, he was liable to take it out on any perceived obstacle he encountered.

_Come to think of it, I’ve just been angry a lot lately._

“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. Terra staggered away from the girl, ashamed to meet her eyes.

“Don’t be,” she told him. “I’m the one who should apologize.”

“No. That was my fault.”

“But you were right.” His chin snapped up. This time, he clamped down on his emotions. Xion sniffed, her eyes glistening. “Ven’s here,” she said, “but the darkness has taken him. You can’t save him, Terra.”

“No.” His voice was hoarse. “There has to be a way!”

“There isn’t.”

“I refuse to accept that,” he growled.

“Terra . . .”

He ignored her. The cool wall greeted his sweaty forehead as he leaned against it. His eyes were clenched shut in concentration. There had to be something he could do, he just didn’t know what.

"Terra, he’s not in this world anymore; he’s in a different one, a dark one. I don’t know if you understand. . .”

He swallowed hard, gasping past the vice that closed around his throat. “I understand completely.”

The girl said, “The only thing you can do is leave before it gets you too.”

Leave? The word echoed in his ears. There was no way he would _ever_ abandon his friends. The very thought brought heat to his blood.

“No.” His nails dug into his palm. “No way.”

Black flames rippled down the length of his keyblade. “I can’t leave him,” he muttered. The flames swayed, stroking his arm, but its touch was cold, not hot, and Terra shifted in discomfort. As he did so, he suddenly became aware of a weight in his pocket. He reached for it, taking it out.

His Wayfinder was warm on his palm. Terra stared down at it, unaware of how close he cradled it to his chest. “There’s always a way,” he murmured.

The dark flames on his keyblade vanished, but they were not gone; they had merely found another host, gathering at his hands instead. They swirled around them in a sphere of darkness, darkening in intensity as the moments passed. He noticed them for a fleeting moment, but that seemed so trivial when compared to the other problems he faced. His fingers tightened around his Wayfinder, so that his veins began to bulge and so focused on that he was, he didn’t see the darkness eat away at the wall when he placed his other hand upon it.

“Terra!”

As his support suddenly vanished, Terra stumbled forwards. Only with luck did he prevent himself from tumbling through the dark portal that had opened up in front of him. It remained there, calling to him, a mist of darkness arising from its center.

Slowly, like a dirty window being wiped clean, the black interior of the portal revealed what lay beyond. It was a room whose features seemed the same as this, but at the same time, it was something else completely. Fire was the first thing Terra saw; it peeked out from holes in the walls, dropped from the ceiling and smoldered below the mesh of the metal floor. The light they cast did not make the room brighter, but created an illusion of blood that drenched every inch. In it, Terra could see that shadows were stirring, creeping along the walls in a way that seemed oddly human.

“H-how did you do that?” the girl asked.

“I don’t know!” he replied. He reached forwards, half-expecting an invisible barrier to bar his way. But there was no resistance as his arm passed through the portal, only a sensation of heat.

“What is this?” he asked.

The girl tiptoed closer. She deliberately stood behind Terra, one hand on his arm as she peeped around him. “The dark world,” she whispered, “but this one isn’t yours. . .”

He looked down at her, and the girl caught his silent question. “The dark world’s different for everyone,” she said. “This one can’t be yours, because it’s _his_.”

“Ven’s?”

A few moments passed. Then she nodded. That was all he needed to hear.

“Terra! What are you doing?”

Terra paused, half of his body already through the portal. “I’m going after him.”

She grabbed his shirt, tugging. “You can’t; the darkness will devour you.”

She was looking up at him with such pleading eyes, ones that reminded him of Ven. That only strengthened his resolve. Gently, he pried her fingers off, guiding her hand to her chest. “That’s something I’ll have to risk, then.”

The girl’s bowed head was above her closed hand, which in turn, was in line with her heart. “You three really are great friends.”

“We are.” He ruffled her hair in an attempt to ease the sorrow on her face. “Will you be safe if I leave you? There are . . . things wandering around.”

“ _I’m_ not in any danger. Be careful, Terra.”

“I will,” he vowed. “It was nice meeting you. . .”

“Xion.”

“Nice meeting you, Xion.”

Guilt filled him as he turned his back to her. Despite Xion’s claims, Terra couldn’t help but feel as though she was in danger; those monsters he had seen, armed with blades and claws, should be able to easily take down a young girl like her. But the place he was going was far more dangerous, and Xion lived in Silent Hill; surely she knew what she was doing.

“Terra,” Xion said as his foot passed through the portal, “I’m sorry this has to happen to you and your friends.”

“I know.”

It was a shock to go from the snowy town to a blazing hellhole, because that was exactly what it was. When his chest entered the dark world, when his _heart_ entered, shadows rose from the floor. Their wispy forms solidified, the ends of their arms split, forming fingers; yellow eyes held him fast in their sight. The inferno under his feet reached up, spitting orange embers that grazed the barrier between them. Already, he was sweating from the heat.

While the door to the hall had been shut in the other world, it was open here, and Terra knew exactly what that meant.

He gripped Earthshaker tight and braced himself.

* * *

 

Compared to this thing, the neoshadows had been nothing.

That wasn’t to say that the fight had been easy. Ven still winced as he walked; one of them had slashed him in the leg and it was only luck that had saved him. He had healed the wound, but an ache still struck deep whenever the leg shifted.

But though sharp their claws were, at least he was capable of bringing them down in one well-aimed strike. This thing, not so much. It was _huge_. Ven stood on the clinic’s roof, two stories above ground, and still it was taller than he was. The bottom half of its body was concealed from him, lost in the fog. The upper half towered above him, yellow eyes staring down like two blinking suns. A darkside heartless, he thought Aqua had told him once; certainly, this one had the size.

Ven lunged out of the way as one of its hands came crashing down. Surely, with that much power the roof must cave; but the hand seemed to sink through the concrete instead, and as it returned, it brought a pool of darkness with it. From there was born dozens of tiny shadows, scurrying towards him as they followed the scent of his heart. They were easy to take care of, and Ven did so, swooping and twirling in an elaborate dance. As his keyblade cut through the last, the darkside swept its hand across the roof.  Wayward Wind did little to block it, and Ven went flying, rolling to a stop at a fence on the building’s edge.

Or, the fence that used to be there. The darkside attacked once more, and although Ven scrambled out of the way, the fence could not. It fell to the ground far, far below in a shower of sparks. That meant that next time, there was no safety net.

“Thunder!” he cried, distracting the heartless long enough to get to his feet. He followed that up with a quick Aero spell, flinging the debris the heartless had created right at it. The darkside hardly paid it any mind; it swatted it away like a fly.

The roof rocked again as the hand came down. Ven staggered, but the shadows rushed towards him, unhindered. Not that they were much harder to dispatch than before. However, what Ven failed to realize is that they were only a distraction for the bigger predator.

He first became aware something had gone wrong when he was face-first on the ground. The clinic groaned as the darkside shifted its weight, reaching for him. Ven rolled over, swung his keyblade, and the spidery fingers retreated, but only for an instant. The next moment, as if an elastic chord connected them, they snapped back, dragging the body with it. The darkside’s body blotted out the sky, and save for the heart-shaped hole in its chest, all Ven could see was black, and the hand that was falling down . . .

Heartless couldn’t speak, but the darkside made some kind of noise: a rumble, like that of an earthquake, which caused flakes of plaster to bounce and dust to fall. There was a streak of brown, and then the heartless reeled back, swatting at the air. And before it had found its balance again, there was a roar – a human one – and Terra lunged out of nowhere.

He slammed down in front of Ven in a kneeling position. Earthshaker served as support as he stood. Keeping his eyes fixed upon the darkside, he extended one hand back towards Ven, grasping it tight when he took it. Within an instant, Ven was pulled to his feet, teetering to a stop just in front of the older apprentice.

“Terra, what . . . ?”

“Don’t talk; just fight.”

Ven set his jaw and nodded.

Together, they charged. Ven took a weaving path, slipping in and out of range and trying to sneak past the darkside’s guard. Terra just went straight for it, fending off the dark orbs that emitted from the darkside’s chest. A couple made contact, but Terra shrugged them off, countering with a swing that sent several back at their master. It didn’t even flinch.

“Terra, watch out!”

Terra heeded him, and leapt back as the darkside’s fist crashed into the ground. “Cover me,” he ordered.

Ven didn’t have Aqua’s long-range arsenal for this sort of task, but he did have his speed. After throwing his keyblade in front to clear a path, he ran towards Terra, sliding under the Darkside’s claws. Wayward Wind circled back like a boomerang and Ven caught it, letting the momentum carry his arm in a powerful blow.

The darkside had summoned the shadow heartless again, but before their yellow eyes had a chance to blink, Ven tore through them. Meanwhile, Terra had leapt upon the darkside’s arm, racing up it straight towards the head.

Terra snarled as the darkside began to retreat. He dug in his heels, struggling to keep his balance. Ven watched fearfully as he rose higher and higher, but Terra knew what he was doing. With one hand clinging to the heartless’ arm for support, he aimed between its eyes whilst his keyblade glowed with the telltale signature of a shot-lock.

It seemed as though nothing happened at first, that Terra’s attack had been useless. Then, gradually, like a building buckling under its own weight, the heartless collapsed. Its essence melted into a black cloud, split in half by Terra as he dove to the ground. He landed hard - Ven could feel the vibrations of his impact - but Terra stood without pause, his breathing easy.

“Wow!” Ven cried. “That was so awesome!”

Terra grinned and ruffled his hair. “I’m surprised you didn’t give that a try yourself.”

“I would have,” Ven lied, “but I was distracted because you know, it was really big and trying to squash me!”

Terra chuckled. “The darkside heartless are more of an annoyance than anything. Someday, you’ll be able to face one without hiding behind me.”

“I was not hiding behind you!”

Terra had been staring into the distance as Ven said that, and now his smile faded. “Come on,” he said, “we need to figure out how to get back to the normal world.”

Ven swallowed. He glanced up; the sky was a murky black, with red flashes lighting up the clouds like a distant flame.

“Aqua’s going to be okay, right?” Ven asked.

“She’s not in this world. I’m not even supposed to be here.”

“What do you mean?”

Terra shrugged. “I’m not sure myself; it’s just something that your friend, Xion, said to me.”

Ven had perked up upon hearing Xion’s name and with that moment of extra awareness, he saw something shift in the corner of his eye. He turned before Terra could react, and his eyes widened. Standing right behind them was another monster. This one was bigger than both of them, with a strange pyramid-shaped helmet on its head and a giant knife that was already raised for an overhead swing.

“ _Terra_!”

Terra whipped around . . . just in time for his face to twist in fear before the knife slammed into his stomach. It wasn’t the blade that hit him but the dull end – he was that fortunate – but the force was so great that he skidded across the roof. He scrambled for a hold as he began to slide over the edge; with one hand he found one, and he dangled there.

Ven ran as fast as he could. He could picture Terra’s fingers weakening in his mind and though he couldn’t see him, he seemed to be dropping further and further down with each moment that passed.

Ven reached; his fingers brushed the tops of Terra’s knuckles just as the latter’s strength finally failed. Terra fell, and all Ven could do was scream as he was swallowed up by the darkness.


	10. Chapter 10

The water was red as it ran down her arm. Aqua found the blood washed off easily, and soon the only sign of her assault were a couple of bruises around where the fangs had penetrated. They were an ugly sight, a black of such clarity that it looked as though she had painted her arm with ink.

They didn’t hurt when she touched them, a good thing since the boys (and by boys, she meant Ven) were sure to poke at it when they saw. They had a custom of flaunting bruises and boasting about how tough they were; and the bigger it was, the better they considered it. However, neither seemed particularly happy whenever she tried to do the same, especially Terra. He tended to hover instead, and demand to know what had happened.

She sighed. Xemnas had passed a scarf onto her right before she walked out, and now she tied the red fabric so that it covered the bruises. Along with acting like a grouch whenever she came home injured, Terra had an annoying inclination - if she or even Ven were injured on a mission with him - to try to seek out the thing that had hurt them. Usually, Ven or her had already taken care of it themselves, to which Terra would respond by being unnecessary violent as long as they were on that world. And with his previously voiced frustrations about Ven, she didn’t think that was a state she wanted him in.

Surprisingly, although the wind brushed her wet arm, the site felt warm, not cold. The frayed ends of the scarf fluttered behind her, the colour matching the flush on her skin as she shivered. The water had soaked into the ground by now, leaving behind a thin layer of red that dyed the withered grass. She scanned her arm once more for any more blood, and then muttered a quick spell to lessen the bruising.

The gravestones lay bare before her when she walked to the front of the church. She did her best to advert her gaze, although sometimes, her eyes would pass over one or another, and each name sent shivers up her spine. The letters were all finely etched, flawless when compared to the graves that bore them. They were old and worn, crumbling in some places, and a few were cracked down the middle.

There was an open grave, which was strange because Aqua was certain it hadn’t been there earlier; however, the dirt walls were crusted with frost, so it couldn’t be that freshly dug. Thankfully, the hole was empty.

She wasn’t that close to the hole, but her foot hit a patch of ice as she passed, and she stumbled towards it. Just as she had righted herself, the earth gave way; she tumbled into the grave, smacking her head against the opposite side.

Her arm stung. Aqua rubbed it tenderly, looking around in confusion. It took a few seconds for her location to click, but once it did, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She scrambled out, breathing hard as she sat by the edge. The air felt as though it had dropped a few degrees, and she unconsciously hugged her knees tight to her chest.

Across the hole, a grave stared at her. Unlike the others, it wasn’t just words. There was a crude drawing of an upright figure wielding a knife, with a red helmet.

She walked up to it and crouched to get a better view. She had seen this picture before in Naminé’s room. It was a side profile and she could only see one side of the triangle, but Aqua knew that there was more to the helmet; that if she could pluck it off the grave and shape it into something real, the edges would come together as a pyramid. Without thinking, she reached out to do exactly that.

When the red passed from the helmet to her fingers, she knew it was not something as simple as paint. Aqua hurriedly wiped it away, first on the ground and when that failed, on her shorts. The helmet remained unblemished, as if she had never touched it at all.

Directly above the figure were written two lines. These words weren’t neat though, but more like a child’s scribble. With a growing feeling of forbearing, she read:

_Here comes a candle to light you to bed,_

_Here comes a chopper to chop off your head._

She spun around. Her arm had flown out to the side, anticipating the need to call upon Rainfell. But there was no need; she was alone. Aqua slowly turned back, certain that for a fleeting moment she had heard something like a heavy object being dragged across stone.

There was one more word positioned above all the rest. It was unfinished, as evidenced by the shallowness of the letters. But despite the faintness, this was the word that struck deepest, not only because it was the name of whom the hole was dug for, but because it was a name that she _knew_.

_Ventus_

“No,” she whispered. Her body was stiff, trembling. This was a sick joke. That was all. Nothing else. But her eyes were drawn again to that figure, whose knife seemed flecked with red to her horrified mind.

“I won’t . . .” she murmured, “I won’t let them . . .” She wasn’t even sure what kind of promise she was trying to make, nor if Ven was in any danger. Not in reality, at least; but her heart was pounding erratically, shouting that this was not the work of some prankster with too much time on his hands. No, this had been made with a darker purpose.

“If it bothers you that much, just scratch his name out. Of course, you’ll have to put another in its place.”

Her hand twitched. Aqua was tense as she faced the speaker, having already developed misgivings in the few seconds he’d been present. It was a boy, smaller than herself, who wore a black and red bodysuit with a black, domed helmet. He stood not five feet away from her and it was disturbing how close he got without her noticing. The fog seemed to crowd around them, thickening into clouds so that the church vanished and the only things she could see were the graves, and him.

The boy nodded at the grave and asked, “Is he that important to you?”

“Yes,” she said simply.

His coiled stride reminded her of a panther. There was a deliberate softness with which he moved, a feigned one that put her on edge instead of calming her. It was only when Aqua started to move to match him, that she saw that between the grave and the hole, he had almost cornered her. Quickly, without any subtlety, she stepped out of the trap.

The boy paused in his movements. “You should forget about him,” he said. “It’ll only be trouble.”

She bristled. “I beg your pardon?” she said, although she had heard him perfectly.

The boy stepped back, hands spread. “It’s only the truth, _Aqua_.” She gasped as he spoke her name. “You don’t need a runt like that holding you back anymore.”

Rainfell flashed into her hand. “How dare you!”

The boy’s face was hidden behind that mask, but she could certainly hear his sneer. “Oh, please,” he said, “why do you waste so much time protecting that idiot? If it wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“What makes you think that –?”

“So, that scarf is part of your normal ensemble?”

Aqua blinked. She could feel the force of the boy’s stare as it focused on the aforementioned object, which seemed to cling tighter to her skin as if alive. Now that it was brought to her attention, the bruises seemed to remember they were there, and ached. The boy chuckled as they did, and it seemed to her that he could look right through the scarf and see the ugly marks beneath.

“That’s none of your business,” she said curtly, “and unless you want to say something that doesn’t insult my friends, Vanitas, then I –”

His voice was sickly sweet, mocking her with false notes of curiosity as he echoed, “Vanitas?”

She went silent. The name had popped out unbidden, and at the time had seemed to fit the masked boy perfectly. Now that she thought back on it though, she could not remember a time that she had learned the boy’s name, nor what would have led her to believe so.

“That name was correct, so point for you. Now,” and suddenly he was too close, “what would have led you to guess that?”

In her haste to get away, she tripped backwards over a grave. Vanitas’ hand shot out, closing on her wrist. It was a harmless gesture, really, meant to keep her upright; however, the fear that filled her was not something that should accompany that sentiment.

However, it did become appropriate when he showed no signs of releasing her.

“Let go, please,” she said softly.

Vanitas clicked his tongue, but he did do as she asked. “You still haven’t answered my question,” he pointed out.

That was true, but because there was no answer to give. She looked away from him, rubbing the wrist he had previously held. His grip had _burned_.

Vanitas, either not understanding – or ignoring – her silent hint, approached. He moved so suddenly, so swiftly that Aqua didn’t have time to check behind her, and backed right into a tree. In that moment of pause, Vanitas closed in, and something stirred in the back of her mind.

“It’s been so long,” he whispered, and it was in a tone that left her baffled. It sounded more like reuniting with Terra after a long period of separation than a random, creepy remark from a stranger.

She was saved from saying something back by none other than Vanitas himself, who abruptly swivelled around. “What?” he snarled at some unseen person. She could see his rage building, his shoulders beginning to tremble with the strain of keeping it in check. “That stupid witch . . .”

She turned to her suddenly, and although his tone was gentle, she couldn’t forget the threat that had been there before. “Looks like I’ll have to cut this visit short. See you around, Aqua.”

The fog swallowed him up as quickly as he had first appeared. The only evidence that he had even been there were a couple of footprints and the cold sweat that had broken out. She shook her head, attempting to throw off the uneasy sensation that was making her skin prickle, and was moderately successful.

With the departure of Vanitas, the world seemed to open up again. Leaving the church suddenly seemed feasible, and it surprised her that she had not really considered it before. But as tempting as it was to leave and forget everything that had happened, she couldn’t ignore the image of the grave that held Ven’s name.

Aqua levelled her keyblade at the grave, feeling guilty for what she was about to do. It was technically vandalism, yes, and the Master probably wouldn’t have been too pleased, but there was a profound wrongness in leaving the grave as it was; she didn’t think she would be able to handle it either, not when she already expected to have nightmares about this day.

The Firaga spell left a black mark where Ven’s name had been. She lowered Rainfell, satisfied. Really, nothing had changed: someone had still written Ven’s name and underneath all that ash, it must have still been there, but she felt better, at least.

Her task complete, she found her way to the graveyard’s metal gates, where a sole raven sat perched on one of the spines. She yanked them open and as she stepped out into the world, the ash fell from the grave, revealing that Ven’s name was untouched.


	11. Chapter 11

The door groaned as it bulged. Harsh shrieks filled the air as the chair holding it in place was forced back, leaving deep scratches in the floor. The force vanished, and the wood returned to its natural place, but a moment later, a giant blade tore through the center. The knife ripped its way down, cleaving the door in half. Through the opening, a pale hand slipped through, grabbed, and _pulled_ , prying the broken door from its hinges. The rest of the monster’s body passed over the doorway, splintered wooden remains trapped under its giant, dragging knife.

It was a good thing Ven had already made his escape.

Although it would do little to slow the monster, Ven still slammed the door behind him as he stumbled out into the hall. Yellow eyes blinked at him from the darkness, but the neoshadows were the least of his worries. He dodged past them, dancing on the balls of his feet. They may move fast, but he moved faster.

Unfortunately, although the monster with the knife was even slower than the neoshadows, it knew the layout better than he did.

For once in his life, he was happy to have inherited his speed over Terra’s strength or Aqua’s knack for magic, for it was only that which allowed him to react in time when the monster stepped out from a junction in front of him and swung. Ven dove, rolling under the knife as it passed over him, so close that he could feel the air ripple. From there, he pushed off the wall moments before it, for lack of a better word, was pulverized. All that was left was a shower of dust that dyed his hair grey.

His keyblade bounced off the monster; his spells were absorbed harmlessly into its skin. The monster was an unstoppable force, as relentless as a hound on the hunt. All Ven could do was run, and run faster.

The monster followed with that slow, dragging walk, but Ven knew better than to be fooled. The monster was never far behind. Even with that massive helmet upon its shoulders, it always knew how to find him.

And the building was still burning.

He couldn’t stand still for more than a second, otherwise he feared his shoes would melt and fuse with the metal floor. The heat blasted him from all sides but despite that, he was cold with terror. Each rapid beat of his heart blurred into the next, creating a frantic pace that his feet moved to, and it grew only worse as the weight of the heat and his earlier fight caught up with him.

He found himself in a long, empty hallway. A few sheets of papers rippled in a breeze from a cracked window. There were no doors to be found, only the end of the hall, so no chance that the monster would intercept him. The heat was less here, not pleasant, but bearable, and Ven wiped the sweat from his forehead. His heart continued its erratic rhythm, but his feet’s pace slowed, and it was all he could do to drag them behind him.

He jerked violently when he heard the monster’s knife scraping against the ground. Such a sound it was, sharp and piercing, and from the very first time he had heard it, it had been burned into his memory. It didn’t sound close, but he couldn’t be sure. He turned around so that he was walking backwards down the hall.

It wasn’t the smartest plan.

He felt the chill first, so much more noticeable with the inferno surrounding him. But before he had time to react, the neoshadows were on him. He thrashed, kicking one into the wall and slicing through a couple more with his keyblade; but it was too little, too late. He found himself forced to the ground, claws pinning his arms, and a shadowy figure perched upon his chest. His heart seemed to stop, as if the heartless had already yanked it out. Yet the neoshadow made no move to do so; instead, it sat there, antennae twitching as it stared into space.

No, not space. At the end of the hall.

Where the monster would soon emerge.

Goosebumps covered every inch of his skin. He would rather have the heartless trying to tear his heart out than have to sit here, waiting. The shriek of the monster’s knife came again, and his eyes widened in fear as he desperately craned his neck to see. Nothing at first, then, as if flames had erupted beneath the walls, the end of the hall glowed bright orange, highlighting the tip of the monster’s helmet. The figure became more and more complete; the knife’s howls grew louder; the neoshadows holding him quivered, and Ven wondered if they, too, were afraid.

When the monster finally came into full view, that theory was confirmed. Although the heartless refused to release him, they shrunk back as far as they could. They were all frozen in time as Ven and the monster stared at each other. There were no eyes, just slits in the metallic helmet, but it felt to Ven that the other’s gaze was burning a hole in his head.

The monster broke the standoff and shambled towards him.

Pure, unadulterated terror lent him a strength he hadn’t known. It was like Terra had possessed him. He bucked, twisted, and the neoshadow on his chest tumbled to the floor. The others were still there, but Ven had a little more mobility now, and the neoshadows weren’t as smart as they thought. They had focused on his dominant arm; it had never quite occurred to them that Ven could summon Wayward Wind to his other hand, as he did now. Before they could react, he shouted at the top of his lungs and blasted them away with an Aero spell, and . . . _the monster was right there!_

He swung reflexively. The monster brought up its knife to block, and the resulting _clang_ rang through the air. Ven’s hand shot to his shoulder, and his armour enveloped him in a burst of light.

But the armour didn’t prevent him from feeling just how utterly cold the monster’s hand was.

Ven cried out. The monster yanked, nearly tearing off his arm. Its grip was painfully tight, so much that Ven feared it would crush the bone. The worst part was that he didn’t think it meant to hurt him just yet; it was just that powerful.

But raising the knife and pointing it at his chest? Yeah, that was probably meant to hurt.

He shouted three quick spells in succession, none of which appeared to do any good. The monster held the knife steady, and then drove it towards his chest. The force slammed Ven against the wall, but before the knife actually sunk in and did real damage, the monster stopped and looked down. While Ven’s spells had no effect on the monster itself, he had lit the ends of its butcher’s apron on fire. He was offered a moment’s reprieve as the monster dropped the knife in favour of patting out the flames. And Ven was hit with a brilliant, or incredibly stupid, idea. He aimed his keyblade at the monster’s helmet, right between one of the slits, and poured his energy not into any of his typical offensive spells, but one of light.

That was it. The monster did not scream – Ven didn’t think it could – but it cringed, waving its massive hands like a man clearing cobwebs from his vision. Ven kicked off, pulled, and there was horrible, horrible pain as he really did dislocate his arm. But he was free. He backed away, cradling his injured side, practically limping. His run was not much steadier as every time his arm was jolted, the pain almost made him puke.

He crawled out a window, not even bothering to see where he would land. The dead grass did little to cushion his fall, and his mouth opened in a mute scream when he landed.  Without thinking, he tried to freeze his arm; anything to make the pain stop. Fortunately, or unfortunately, it didn’t work.

The sound of strained metal brought his attention back to the monster. Ven stared at the building fearfully. Inch by inch, he crawled away, placing a healthy distance between them. If the monster were to attack now . . . Ven didn’t know what he would do, or what he _could_ do. He was hurt, scared, a shivering ball too weak to stand.

The clinic loomed over him like a gigantic beast as the black sky crackled and rumbled. He couldn’t even recognize it. The old walls were wreathed in dark vines, which pulsed and swelled like the veins of an animal. The windows, once covered by tattered curtains, spat sparks before a bright orange background. The wooden doors had been replaced by their sturdier, metallic cousins, and they bore the distant impression of having been bolted shut. The whole world had changed into something dark and sinister, and even the ground looked as though someone had gone at it with a flamethrower.

Ven closed his eyes as the heat faded from his body. Sweat dripped, leaving icy-cold trails everywhere; his clothes were damp with it, his hair not much better. He just wanted to lie down and rest for a while . . .

Something flittered through his fingers, as delicate as a spider’s web. Ven opened his eyes and gazed down at his hands. He saw no trace of what had passed. But then a dark wisp broke away from the ground and soared up into the heavens, where hundreds of others joined it. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing: the vines on the clinic were retreating into the ground; the ash-covered ground was blown away; and a bright white light shone in the sky, spreading as it eclipsed the black. The fog rose, bringing the cold with it, and the first snowflakes began to fall.

Ridgeview Clinic reclaimed its broken-down, but safe, appearance. The world was normal again.

Ven dismissed his armour and laid there, too tired and pained to move. He knew he should: who was to say the monster was gone? Although common sense said that he couldn’t be too careful, Ven had a feeling the danger was over. As long as he was here, with the fog and the snow, it couldn’t follow. No, it was locked in that other place, with the neoshadows and the darkside and . . .

Terra.

He shot up. How could he forget about his best friend? He circled the clinic like a dog sniffing for scraps, praying that he would find Terra intact. Terra was strong, yes, unbelievably so, but that had been such a long fall, and Ven couldn’t stop the parade of images featuring Terra’s broken body. But Terra wasn’t anywhere; there wasn’t even a dent in the ground to mark where he had fallen. He sunk to his knees, despair sapping the last of his strength.

There were footsteps. Ven didn’t notice, but that didn’t matter since they weren’t from a figure he was interested in. The source of the steps paused; orange eyes frowned upon a stern face. The hawkish intensity of the glare softened once the man looked Ven over more closely.

“Ventus?”

Ven looked over his shoulder at the man. Upon seeing that it wasn’t either of his friends, he nodded mutely.

The man exhaled and moved his hand off his sword. Ven blinked; he hadn’t even noticed it was there – and it was not like the man had tried to hide it; it stood out rather nicely against the red sweater and white pants.

“My name is Ansem,” he said, extending a hand. “I’ve been looking for you.”

In the middle of shaking his hand, Ven froze. “For me?” he repeated. That couldn’t be good, could it?

“Yes, for you. There is a young lady braving this place in search of you, and I told her that I would lend my eyes.”

“Was her name Aqua?”

A brief smiled flickered across Ansem’s face. “I see that I do have the right boy. Come on now, up you get.” He yanked Ven to his feet before the latter could protest. Not that he could really say much with the pained whimper that escaped him.

Ansem’s eyes narrowed. He released Ven, fingers skimming his clothes on their way up to his shoulder. “May I?” he asked. When Ven nodded his head, Ansem gently prodded at his shoulder, making thoughtful noises as he checked it over.

“I can fix that,” Ansem said, “but it will be quite painful.”

Ven swallowed. With that monster on his tail, there wasn’t much choice. “Do it.”

Ven expected pain, had braced himself for it, but he hadn’t imagined how bad it would be. He’d been struck by lightning, burned and smacked against walls in spars with his friends, but this hurt more than any of those. This was more intimate, like an arrow to the chest.

Thankfully, unlike some of the other pains he had endured, this one boasted a short life. He rolled his shoulders, celebrating their ability to move again. They answered him by cracking. “Thanks!” He grinned at his saviour.

Ansem gave him a withering look. “Come along, now. I’ll take you somewhere safe.”

Safe? “Where’s that?”

“Brookhaven Hospital. The same place I met your friend.”

_Another_ medical center. Ven tried to hide his discomfort. After that disaster, he planned to stay away from clinics for a very long time. But if this man said it was safe, then it couldn’t be that bad, right? Of course, there was still the matter of Terra and Aqua to deal with.

“We have to find Terra first,” Ven demanded. “He with me in there, but he fell off the roof.”

Ansem stared at him. Ven thought his moustache twitched. “He fell off the _roof_?”

“Yeah, and I can’t find him!”

Ansem was silent as he rubbed his forehead. “Perhaps it is for the best. Wait here; I will look around for him.”

Ven vigorously shook his head. “I’m coming with you!”

Ansem’s mouth thinned. For an instant, Ven wondered if he was looking at some long-lost brother of the Master. “Very well,” he said curtly.

They looked everywhere, mapping out a radius that Terra could have only fallen into if he had flown. This was mostly due to Ven’s incessant urging and confidence that sooner or later, they would stumble upon the older apprentice. However, though Ven’s conviction was slow to falter, Ansem did not possess a similar patience.

“Ventus, I believe you are mistaken,” he finally said. “It’s clear to me that your friend never fell.”

“I saw him!” Ven snapped.

“Are you sure? Sometimes, the mind plays tricks on the senses. You hear things, spy shadows in the corner of your eyes, see things that never were . . .”A ghost of uncertainty flickered across Ansem’s face, and Ven had the sense that Ansem wasn’t speaking directly to him anymore.

The strict lines of Ansem’s regular expression snapped back into place, and his tone was one of doubt when he next spoke. “Unless you know precisely where Terra is and can point him out in the next second, we are wasting our time.”

Ven set his jaw, ready to defend himself. But as he thought about it, he realized that Ansem was right: he didn’t have a clue where Terra was. He sighed and surrendered, following the man with slow, dragging steps.

Their walk was mostly done in silence; it was not the comfortable sort that sometimes trailed the apprentices, but a tense one that seemed to hold a hollow sound of its own. They avoided looking at each other and to a passerby, it would have seemed that they were two people who just happened to be going the same way. Still, that didn’t prevent Ansem from shedding his sweater and giving it to Ven when the latter’s teeth began to chatter. There was no break in their pattern as Ansem did so, and he continued to move forwards with the purposeful stride of a soldier.

Brookhaven looked . . . nice. It may actually be a place he wouldn’t mind spending the night. That wasn’t to say it was a five-star hotel, oh no, it shared the rusty, worn-down theme with the rest. However, it didn’t look like it was going to collapse if a bird flew into it, and that was a plus in his book.

The inside was even better. If he looked _really_ closely, he thought that he could see his face in the walls. It made their journey take a little longer than it should have, since Ven felt the urge to beam and wave wildly at his reflections. Eventually, Ansem swatted him on the head.

“If you are done fooling around, may we proceed?”

Ven rubbed the sore spot. He hit _hard_. “Aren’t we already here?”

“Yes, we are. . . Naminé!” Ven spun around just in time to see a flash of blonde hair disappear around a corner. Ansem sighed, “It’s been much more active lately. Perhaps there is a reason . . .”

“Sorry?” Ven said.

Ansem ignored him. “Come. There is something I wish to check upon before I leave you.”

They walked through twisting hallways and up creaky stairs. Well, Ansem walked, and Ven bounced. Ansem was so slow! Ven dashed ahead, and then ran back the way an exploring, overactive puppy returned to its master. Whatever Ansem wanted to show him, he wanted to see it now. Then he could stop wondering and returning to worrying about Terra.

They stopped in the middle of a hallway, in front of a closed door. “Do you see anything?” Ansem asked.

Ven frowned. “No. Do you want me to look inside?”

“You see a door?” Ansem said sharply.

Ven nodded. “Can’t you?” he asked slowly.

“No, I cannot. Curious. There is some food downstairs, Ventus.” He patted him on the head, turning to leave. “Stay in this building. I will look for your friends.”

Ven tried the doorknob as Ansem left, but the room was locked.

Or rather, it was occupied.


	12. Chapter 12

His head ached. It felt like someone had pried open his skull and was scraping it clean with a wire sponge. He squeezed his eyes closed as tight as he could, twisting and turning on the bed. He had the sense that there was something important that he should be doing, and yet he wanted nothing but to lay here and sleep a moment more. Terra had never been an early riser.

A murmur. The soft sound snapped the iron bands crushing his mind and he sighed in relief. This bed really was comfortable, he decided, and he wondered if Aqua or Eraqus had switched his mattress when he wasn’t looking. However, he still couldn’t shake the feeling that he was forgetting something.

He thought back. Aqua had cooked today, so it wasn’t that he left the oven on (again). It had been an easy day and unless Terra had missed something while he was meditating, he didn’t think Eraqus had asked him to do anything.

Wait a second. Easy day? Eraqus? Those weren’t words usually found in the same sentence. There, indeed, was something missing, the why . . .

Oh, wait, the mission! Eraqus had wanted them to look for the missing Xehanort and his apprentice. The three of them had left to do that, he was pretty sure. Yes, he remembered arriving at the world, where Ven had suddenly zoned out and nearly flown way off course. He had been alert the rest of the mission, but too alert, as jumpy as a rabbit who had spotted the fox too many times. Then the idiot had run off during the night and he and Aqua had tracked him here, and then he lost Aqua, and found Ven in that realm of darkness and fire . . .

And the monster.

The monster that had thrown him off a freaking building.

Rather unintelligently, Terra shot up in his bed. Thankfully, he had no broken bones. Actually, now that he took the time to look, except for his torn clothes, he was perfectly fine. Strange. He was certain he hadn’t dreamt up the pain of taking a knife to the stomach.

But where was he? Ridgeview Clinic wasn’t this bright, and the ground that he should have landed on certainly wasn’t made of white sheets. That was the colour that filled up most of his view. From the walls to the floor to the bed’s canopy, it was all the same. The only exceptions were the multitudes of drawings on the wall by the window, and the head of blonde hair bent over a desk.

“Hello?” he said.

The head turned. It belonged to a young girl with big blue eyes, who wore a plain white dress that blended with her surroundings. “Oh, you’re awake.”

“Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Where am I? Where’s Ven?” he asked in more desperate tones.

“Brookhaven Hospital. Ven’s here, too. You don’t need to be scared, Terra. You’re both safe.”

“How?” Terra wondered as he stood on legs that should have been broken in several places.

“The fall should have killed you,” the girl confirmed, “but Silent Hill doesn’t follow those rules. He didn’t want you dead, so he held you in-between instead. Had things gone his way, you would have woken up in this world, but not near your friends, and definitely not here.”

“Huh?”

“I interfered,” she explained without really explaining anything. “Xion told me what had happened, and I inferred and pulled you out before he could do anything to you.”

“Xion?” He still had no idea what she was talking about, but that was someone he recognized. He shook his head. “You said Ven was here.”

She nodded.

“Take me to him,” he commanded, sparing no thoughts for manners.

She did so, and they found Ven sitting at a table in the cafeteria. His eyes were red and bloodshot, and he managed a last sniffle before launching himself at Terra. Who knew such a little person could weigh so much? Terra’s gasps for breath were lost under the clamour of Ven’s spluttered apologies and sobs, and instead of loosening his grip as Terra had hoped, Ven merely tightened his hold on Terra’s neck.

“Can’t . . . breathe . . .” Terra finally forced out.

Ven continued to hang from Terra’s neck, but did allow him to breathe.

"Terra, where did you go? I looked everywhere for you!”

“I’m . . . I’m not sure.” He scratched his head and looked around. “I was pretty sure that I was outside before."

“Me too!” Ven cried. “Me and Ansem looked everywhere for you, but it was like you disappeared. Look, he gave me this cool sweater!”

The girl looked acutely uncomfortable as Ven waved his arms about, showing off the red garment. Terra sighed fondly; if anything, the sweater made Ven look younger. It hung off his body, ending just below his knees, and Terra reached over to yank it off his younger companion.

“Teeerrra! Give it back!”

As Ven lunged for it, Terra held the sweater above his head and yawned. Ven pouted.

"So we’ve here,” Ven said, “but what about Aqua?”

Terra froze at her name. He said a curse in his mind and the words bounced off the sides of his skull over and over. In his joy of being reunited with Ven, he had completely forgotten about her. But it couldn’t be that bad, right? Aqua could defend herself.

But he shuddered when he thought back to the dark realm he had found Ven in.

“Come on, Ven. Let’s go,” he grunted.

“No!” The blonde girl scurried after them and tugged at his sleeve. “You can’t. It’s not safe!”

“That’s why we need to go find Aqua.”

The girl shook her head frantically. “You don’t understand,” she said, “bad things will happen if you leave. This is the only safe place.”

“Look, Naminé,” - so that was the girl’s name – “we’ll go find Aqua, and then we’ll come back here,” Ven offered. He held her hands as he spoke, and gave her a grin that Terra swore would rip his face apart.

Naminé was still shaking her head, so Ven continued, “Aqua’s our friend; we can’t force her to fend for herself, and we can’t pretend that we don’t know she’s in trouble. We’ll be careful, I promise! And then we’ll come back and –”

“No!” Naminé cut him off. “If you find Aqua, leave. Don’t come back.”

Ven’s smile dropped and Terra was quite shocked, too. “If that’s what you want,” Ven said. He shuffled his feet, looking profusely guilty. Terra ruffled his hair and together, they left the room.

Naminé caught up with them again at the doors to Brookhaven. “Wait!” she said, and Terra groaned, certain that she was going to try to talk him out of it again. But instead she held her hands out, and her fingers uncurled to reveal his Wayfinder. Terra immediately patted down his clothes; he hadn’t even noticed it was gone!

“Take this,” she said, “it will help you find Aqua. I usually could tell you exactly where she is, but there is . . . something blocking me. It’s not good.”

The Wayfinder was warm against his palm. He studied it closely; there didn’t seem to be anything physically different about it, but it held a radiance that it lacked before. Aqua had always claimed the Wayfinders magically bound them, and he thought he could see that power now, swirling inside the glass.

“As long as you’re here, make sure it’s always with you,” Naminé warned.

He thanked her warmly and strapped the Wayfinder to Earthshaker. He wasn’t going to lose it again anytime soon.

“They are very important to you, aren’t they?” Naminé said to both of them. Simultaneously, Terra and Ven glanced at their Wayfinder and nodded. Naminé smiled and further said, “There is so much love and light in them . . . I think that’s why the darkness has not claimed you yet. Keep them with you, always.”

Terra mulled over her words, turning his Wayfinder over in his palm. He and Ven said their last goodbyes to Naminé, and then stepped out the door.

The coldness of the air outside was in such contrast with the inside of Brookhaven that it knocked him back a step. Ven shivered and tried to steal back Ansem’s sweater, which was draped around Terra’s neck. Terra saw him and held it up, considering. Making sure that Ven was watching, he wore it himself. It was snug, especially around the shoulders, but he could manage.

“Where do we start?” Ven asked, watching the ascension of his own steamy breath.

“I don’t know,” Terra said. “We were supposed to meet at a shack in the yard of an apartment, but she wasn’t there when I checked before.”

“Maybe she is now?”

Terra nodded. “Best lead we have.”

He glanced down at his Wayfinder, hoping that it would magically come to life and guide them to Aqua. It stayed stubbornly in place instead.

Snow fell around them. Ven stuck close to his side, giving the fog frightened, sideways glances as if he expected it to reach out and grab him. Terra set his jaw and tried to act as though he wasn’t nervous, but Ven’s constant fidgeting was getting to him. This town was so dark and strange . . . it electrified his nerves and set them on edge. Terra forced himself to stare straight ahead, even when he thought he saw the shadows of hounds to his side.

“This is it,” Terra said as they stood in front of the metal fence. He ran his fingers along it, searching for any dents left from the soldiers. The blanket of snow beyond it was crisp and unspoiled; there was no indication that he or Aqua had ever been there.

Ven cautiously followed Terra into the courtyard. He was as jumpy as a cat that had been stuffed into a bag and shaken around. Terra shut the gates and turned to see Ven staring at him like Terra had just locked him in a room with a psychopath. Terra rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to speak, but stopped short. Ven was already freaked out. Telling him about the soldiers would just give him a heart attack.

He kicked open the door to the shack. A lone paper skittered across the floor in the breeze.

Terra sighed; it was empty. He slumped against the shack, holding his head in his hands as he picked his mind for anything that would be of help. He knew that it was unlikely that Aqua would be here, but he had prayed. With that last hope crushed, all his energy oozed out of him. His bones felt like they had been turned into jelly, and he slid down the wall until he hit the ground.

“Terra, what do we do now?” Ven asked anxiously.

He shrugged. “I have no idea.”

“Terra, you can’t give up!” Ven squeezed between Terra and the wall. His back touching Terra’s, Ven planted his feet against the shack and pushed. Terra raised his eyebrows.

Ven collapsed, panting. He crawled away before Terra’s bulk squashed him, and sat down next to him. “Maybe we should retrace your steps?” he suggested.

“There isn’t much, honestly. We entered the town, picked up a map from a gas station and wound up here.” He closed his eyes. “I don’t see why she would go back there.”

“Well, we don’t have anywhere else to look, so we should give it a try. Please, Terra, please?” Ven’s voice rose to a plaintive whine, so high-pitched that it literally hurt to hear.

Terra didn’t want to move. He was tired, cold, and he ached. It was as if every time he had swung Earthshaker he had torn a part of his muscles, and the pain was all coming back at once. He summoned his keyblade and examined his Wayfinder. When it failed to do anything, he tossed it beside him and sighed.

The Wayfinder rolled away.

A weight settled on his mind, dragging it into a void. Fighting it was like trying to swim in a whirlpool – he only sunk further. His vision flickered black as sleep threatened to claim him. Distantly, he heard Ven’s concerned voice, but he dismissed the words without listening to him. He figured Ven was just bugging him about Aqua again. Didn’t he understand that there was no point? They couldn’t wander around and hope to find her.

Ven flicked his nose. Terra glared at him, but the younger boy was not perturbed. If anything, he looked more troubled as he grabbed Terra’s hands and tried to yank him to his feet. Terra didn’t move; he didn’t want to move. He was tired. He wanted to sleep. But Ven wouldn’t have it. He scooped up an armful of snow, and stuffed it down Terra’s shirt.

“Argh!”

That got Terra up. He flailed, frantically brushing his shirt down to force the snow out. Normally, Ven would have been laughing his head off; but right now, he watched Terra’s antics with no sign of remorse.

“What was that for?” Terra barked.

“We are not going to just abandon Aqua,” Ven growled softly. It was an unusual sound to hear from him, and it gave Terra pause.

"I’m not abandoning her,” Terra said firmly.

“Then let’s go!”

When Ven brushed against him, Terra was shocked by his reaction just as much as Ven was. He grabbed Ven by his collar and slammed him against the wall. Ven squirmed; his legs kicked out as his trembling fingers wrapped around Terra’s thick wrist. Terra only leaned in closer, the skin on his face stretching as it contorted into a mask of pure rage. The words tumbled out in a low hiss.

“ _Don’t touch me_.”

One of his hands slid up to Ven’s neck and made itself known. He could feel Ven’s heartbeat under his palm. It was tempting, all too tempting to squeeze and make it race. The dark urge to cause pain was overtaking him. He couldn’t explain why, but he suddenly hated Ven; his optimism made him sick, and the light in his heart hurt to be near.

Ven’s eyes bugged out, and he clawed frantically at Terra’s hand. Terra sneered. For all his bravado, Ven really was pathetic when it came down to it. However, Ven’s nails were starting to draw blood, so Terra removed his other hand from Ven’s collar, and used it to pin down one of the younger boy’s arms. At least he could halve the damage taken.

He leaned down so that his mouth was right next to Ven’s ear and whispered, “ _Scared_?”

Ven’s reply was a garbled mix of choking and pleading, and Terra leaned back so that he could see him properly. Tears were bubbling up in Ven’s eyes, and a couple rolled down his face and left a damp trail behind. Terra smirked, staring Ven straight in the face, and relished the thought of the life leaving him.

When the reality of his thoughts hit him, it jolted Terra back to his senses.

Terra glanced down at his arms to see his veins bulging. He released Ven at once, and the boy dropped to the ground, gasping for breath. Horror-stricken, Terra stared at the hand that had been strangling Ven; he hadn’t even realized that he had tightened his grip. He didn’t even know why he had done that – any of that – in the first place. Ven coughed, a hand on his chest as he forced air into his lungs. Ven looked up suddenly and scrambled back, but it was too late. As soon as the teary blue eyes met his own, Terra felt hatred swell inside him once more.

Kingdom Hearts, what was he doing? Terra desperately recalled all the good times he and Ven had together, but he couldn’t control the rash of emotions flooding his mind. Unbelievably, his hand reached for Ven’s neck again. He tried to force it back down to his side, but it felt like there was something holding it in place. It wasn’t just his arm either. The air pressed against him, immobilizing him, and an irresistible force moved his leg forward.

It took everything he had to fumble the landing, and he toppled face-first into the snow. Ven hadn’t moved, and Terra wasn’t sure whether it was from fear or a hope that Terra had gone back to normal. He tried to scream at Ven to run, but his mouth refused to open.

In the corner of his vision, light glinted off orange glass.

As soon as the thought flashed across his mind, a weight came crashing down on his arms. He was no longer trying to choke Ven, but he couldn’t do anything either. The only part of his body that he could control was his eyes, and he alternated between looking at the Wayfinder and at Ven, trying to convey a message.

Ven looked terrified, but he grabbed the Wayfinder anyways. The younger boy was cringing, his eyes half-shut as he held it out for Terra to grab. It broke Terra’s heart to see Ven so scared of him, and with a surge of resolve, he broke free of the mysterious force and grabbed his Wayfinder.

There was an audible snarl as the light entered his body and chased the evil away. Warmth flooded through him, burning away all traces of negative emotions and leaving a dull apathy in its wake. However, that blissful state ended quickly when he heard Ven’s terror.

“T-Terra?”

“Ven.” He instinctively tried to envelop the blond in a hug, but Ven shied away, his arms protectively in front of him. Terra fell back, feeling sick to his stomach.

“Your eyes were yellow,” Ven whispered.

Terra stiffened. The Master had mentioned that he had a problem with darkness, but he would never . . . No, there was no way he would give into the darkness, especially not to hurt his friends!

“Ven, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what happened!”

“It’s okay, Terra,” Ven mumbled. More firmly, he said, “It wasn’t you. I know it wasn’t.”

Ven looked away suddenly, hiding his face. Terra knew why. He moved forwards again, slowly this time, and pulled Ven close to his chest. Ven was quiet, although Terra could hear the odd sniffle.

Ven was so small and tiny, and Terra was filled with self-hatred over the fact that he, however inadvertently, had hurt him. To make matters worse, he couldn’t even comfort him that well. He needed Aqua here; Ven never had a problem crying on her shoulder. It struck Terra then that his very presence may be smothering Ven’s need to cry and he pulled away with that realization.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked.

Ven nodded, and he wiped the last tears away.

Terra’s fists tightened. The Wayfinder grew warmer, as if in protest. Silently, he recalled Naminé’s warning to keep it with him at all times. Now he knew why. He put it in his pocket, fuming at his stupidity for putting it down in the first place. However, just before it disappeared from sight, the Wayfinder gleamed. At once, there was a tug in Terra’s chest, right where his heart was.

Naminé had told him that the Wayfinder would help him find Aqua. Maybe this was what she meant.

“You sure you’re good?”

“Yeah,” Ven said, “why?”

Terra stood up. “I want to go find Aqua.”

“You know where she is?”

He nodded. “I think so.”


	13. Chapter 13

Imagine what the Master would say if he knew that Ven was walking next to the guy who had tried to kill him.

Ven shuddered. No, that wasn’t true; it hadn’t been Terra trying to kill him. It had been someone – something – else.

He tightened his grip on his keyblade, and scanned the darkness around them. There were so many shadows, so many alcoves and ledges on which a monster could hide. If Ven hated anything, it was this place. He didn’t know how the darkness had taken control of Terra’s mind, but he was terrified it would happen again, even if Terra was holding his Wayfinder. He clutched his own, yearning to feel the light that had rescued Terra, but he felt nothing other than cool glass. He tried to hide his fear with his usual giddiness, but if Terra’s sideways glances were anything to go by, he sounded forced.

He had no idea where they were going, but Terra seemed to know. The older apprentice stumbled about like a drunkard, occasionally lurching to the side before he continued the chase in new direction. He held Earthshaker out in front of him, and Ven could see the orange Wayfinder glowing in his pocket. Ven was supposed to be the fast one, but Terra’s furious strides ate up ground like never before, and he had to jog to keep up.

“Are we there yet?” he asked.

Terra grunted. He hadn’t said much of anything since that incident at the shack.

The fog drifted around them, following them. It blocked out the buildings, the sky, and even the ground just a few metres in front of them. The lines on the road came in and out of view, but it didn’t feel like they were going anywhere.

Terra broke out into a run so abruptly that Ven just stood there. Before the fog could swallow up Terra’s form, he jumped and ran after him. Another shadow joined the first, and colour returned just in time for Ven to see Earthshaker clatter to the ground and Terra launching himself at Aqua. Her head was nestled in Terra’s chin, and looking thoroughly confused, she patted him awkwardly on the back.

“Aqua!”

“Ven!” She pulled away from Terra and Ven leapt at her, hugging her around the waist. Her hands rested on his shoulders and after a few lonely moments, Terra hugged the both of them. Ven could feel the ball of tension inside Terra unwinding as he slumped against them, and Ven had to readjust his stance to support the extra weight.

“You’re okay!” he cried. It was as if none of the freaky things in this town had happened. For all the emotions he felt, they were only separated and after an untroubled journey, reunited once more. The Three Musketeers were back in business.

“I’m fine,” Aqua said. “What about you two?”

Terra rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve been better,” he said, his face red.

“He fell off a building!” Ven added.

Terra hissed his name, but Aqua cut over him with a furious, “ _What_!

“Terra, are you hurt?” That was the end of the hug. Aqua pried one of Terra’s eyes open, held her finger in front of it, and slowly moved the same finger back and forth. “What happened? How did you fall off a building?”

“A monster whacked him in the stomach with a knife, and he fell off,” Ven told her helpfully.

Aqua backed away, her hands glowing with a Cura spell. “You were hit in the stomach with a _knife_?” she repeated, horrified.

“It was the blunt end,” Terra hurried to explain. “I’m not hurt; I can show you.”

Terra’s fingers traced the bottom of his shirt and blushing, Aqua spluttered, “I believe you, Terra.”

Terra nodded, a puff of hot air escaping him. Ven felt thoroughly putout as the other two apprentices had one of their moments. It was like watching a mind-numbing sitcom that you couldn’t turn off.

Ven was ready to leap between them to shake things up, when Terra raised a hand to play with the loose strands of a scarf tied around Aqua’s arm. “Aqua,” he said, “what is this for?”

Aqua wrenched her arm away. “Nothing,” she claimed. She smiled softly, staring at the scarf as she said, “I thought it looked pretty.”

Terra accepted her answer, but Ven wasn’t so naïve. “You’re lying,” he said bluntly. “It’s covering something.”

Terra gave him one of those _Ven stop being ridiculous!_ looks, but Ven ignored him. Tapping his foot, he glared at Aqua. While even he could be a pretty good liar when he needed to, Aqua was a horrible one, and she broke down under his stare.

“I was bit by something, and it bruised pretty badly,” she admitted.

Terra, being the genius he was, immediately tried to pry the scarf off. Aqua swatted him away with a squawk, exclaiming, “Terra, I said I was bruised, not that I wanted bruises!”

He backed off, but he and Ven bore into her with their eyes. She avoided their stares, but no doubt she could feel them burning a hole in her head.

“Guys, please.”

Terra wouldn’t budge. “Take off the scarf,” he said. Ven stood next to him, arms crossed, and together they formed an unstoppable force of manliness.

Aqua caved under their combined manly strength. She unwrapped her arm, revealing it for all to see. She was right; it had bruised badly. The bruises were black in colour, and the area around them was red and inflamed.

“Spells don’t seem to work on them,” Aqua said, “but it’s fine. It doesn’t hurt that much.”

Ven faintly heard Terra growl. Clearly, the oldest apprentice still thought it hurt too much. “What did it?” he asked.

Warning bells went off in Ven’s mind. That tone Terra used was not a good tone. Usually, when he heard it at the Land of Departure, he would run away and hide under his bed (or Aqua’s). Bad things happened when Terra spoke like that. Last time, it had been in Port Royal, where Ven and Terra had snuck onto a pirate ship and were caught. Terra ended up destroying the entire ship after one of the pirates had waved a knife at Ven.

That was one of those adventures they decided to keep secret from Aqua and the Master.

“I took care of it, Terra. You can stop worrying.” A flicker of unease in her eyes betrayed Aqua’s lie, but Ven kept silent because he, too, did not want to be responsible for a Terra-style rampage.

Terra’s tone lightened a bit. “Okay, that’s good. Shall we go home, then?”

Home. The relief that swept over him was so great, that Ven felt like he was floating. It seemed like he hadn’t been there for such a long time, though in truth it was only a few days. He welcomed the Master’s trials now; they sounded like a vacation after all of this. Terra had a similar dreamy look on his face, and Aqua just smiled normally. That was good; it meant that she hadn’t faced the things he and Terra had.

They raised their hands to their shoulders, preparing to summon their armour.

“My, my, you have grown.”

They turned. Two hooded figures stared back at them. Both of them were taller than the apprentices were, and their black cloaks outlined muscles. One of the pair pulled down his hood, and suddenly, Ven was facing a grizzled man with dreadlocks and thick sideburns framing his face.

“Ah, Terra,” the black-haired man said, “it has been so long since we last met.”

The man was expressionless, but his drawling voice was laced with scorn. A smirk would not be out of place on his face. He clasped his hands together behind his back, walking in a large circle around the three apprentices.

“Do you remember me, Terra? I certainly remember you.” When Terra shook his head, the man chuckled darkly and said, “Lexaeus, perhaps your presence will help our friend.”

The other man dropped his hood. Ven gasped; this red-haired man was bigger and more muscular than Terra – he didn’t think that was possible. Lexaeus surveyed his surroundings with disinterest, though something dark flickered in those blue eyes when they landed on Terra.

“Raising any memories?” said the black-haired man from behind them. “I wouldn’t think that you would forget us.”

Indeed, Terra’s mouth had dropped open, and Ven wasn’t sure if he was breathing.

The man’s bushy eyebrows rose. “Ah, I must apologize. I forgot about our guests. My name is Xaldin.”

He extended a hand. Aqua, being her, hesitated only for a moment before shaking it. Ven was more wary. His hand was engulfed by the other’s cold touch, and it sent a shiver up his spine.

“What do you want?” Terra asked hoarsely.

“Justice.” They whipped around as Lexaeus spoke.

“Justice?” Aqua echoed. “For what?”

Terra choked. He was shaking his head frantically, not at Aqua, but at Xaldin. Xaldin did not change expression, even as he dropped the bomb.

“Your friend is a fugitive, didn’t you know?” The smile that crossed Xaldin’s face was terrible. “He killed someone.”

What. Ven smacked his ear, certain he had misheard. The Terra he knew would never do that. A dark corner of his mind wandered back to the incident at the shack, and he wondered if Terra had ever been taken over by darkness before.

“You have the wrong person,” Ven said confidently, as Aqua nodded beside him. “Terra wouldn’t kill anyone. Right, Terra?”

He and Aqua turned to their friend, waiting for his vehement agreement. However, the colour had drained from Terra’s face and he seemed incapable of speaking. As the seconds ticked by, Ven’s confidence slipped away. In its place, doubt took root.

“Terra?” Aqua prompted.

Xaldin laughed again. “It’s always the quiet ones.”

Aqua spoke up in Terra’s defense. “No, no! Terra would never hurt anyone unless he had no choice. I don’t care for whatever sick game you’re playing, leave him alone!”

Xaldin stepped closer. “Then why don’t you explain to the lady who killed Officer Fair, Terra?”

“Stop!” Terra choked out. He backed away from Xaldin like a wounded animal, almost staggering straight into Lexaeus’ chest.

“No,” Xaldin said simply.

“Terra, who’s Officer Fair?” Ven asked.

Panic was starting to show itself on Terra’s face. His chin whipped from side to side as he kept track of the two cloaked men, and he backpedalled whenever one was too close. He wouldn’t even let Ven or Aqua near him.

“Terra, just tell us you didn’t do it,” Aqua begged.

“I . . .” The tortured word said it all.

Ven’s heart stopped. He was shaking, but he could barely feel it through the numbness that encased his body. Unconsciously, he mouthed the word _no_ over and over again. He refused to believe it. Terra was kind, gentle, if not a little idiotic; a killer couldn’t lurk beyond that. It made no logical sense that he would ever harm someone.

“You see, children, Terra isn’t the person you think he is.” Xaldin seemed to be taking great pleasure in watching their world crumble. “He was a brat, a petty criminal. One day, he was caught shoplifting by Lexaeus and Officer Fair.”

“We were both officers in the same department,” Lexaeus said.

“They confronted Terra with no expectations of violence. But,” Xaldin’s smile was razor-sharp, “your friend is full of surprises. One moment they were talking, and then Terra pulled out a weapon out of thin air and stabbed Officer Fair right through the chest.”

“No,” Aqua breathed.

“I happened to be wandering by at that point, and witnessed his last breath. We arrested Terra afterwards, naturally, and were ready to punish him from his crimes. Only what do I learn?” He threw his hands up, laughing merrily. “Some man claiming to be a keyblade master had taken him away! I will assume that the same man disciplined you properly, or did he just give you a stern lecture?”

“Shut up,” Terra said. His shoulders were shaking.

Xaldin continued as if Terra had never spoken. “It appears the great keyblade warriors are nothing more than murderers and cowards.”

Terra bowed his head, and Ven could hear him sucking in deep breaths to keep himself calm.

“Perhaps your master saw himself in you. How much blood do you think stains his hands?”

At the unprovoked inclusion of their Master, both Ven and Aqua had bristled. However, their reaction was nothing compared to Terra’s. At first, it looked like Xaldin’s words had torn out the eldest apprentice’s soul, leaving nothing but an empty husk behind. Then his head had snapped up, and everyone could see the shadows swirling in his eyes. Earthshaker appeared in a burst of black flames and with a wild roar, he pushed Ven aside and swung at Xaldin’s head.

A giant red and black weapon crashed down and stopped Terra in his tracks. Now, Ven saw just why Lexaeus had so much muscle. The axe-sword screeched as it shifted on the ground, and Ven was reminded of another giant blade.

As soon as Terra had made the first move, Aqua and Ven had automatically summoned their keyblades. Lexaeus had his weapon out, and Xaldin now pulled out two lances and spun them in his hands. The air between Xaldin and Terra crackled like an electric storm, and Ven was sure they could all hear his heart pounding as the faceoff lengthened.

It was Aqua’s whispered plead that convinced Terra to back down. She rubbed his shoulder, calmed him, and subtly guided him away from the two men. But Ven could see that she was fighting back tears, and with a dull horror, he realized that Aqua believed them.

And Xaldin couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “It’s a shame you weren’t there, Miss, the night Officer Fair died.”

Terra snarled. Aqua tightened her grip on him, and Ven rushed forwards to help. Then something very strange happened. Aqua let Terra go and jumped away, tumbling into Ven, and the two of them fell to the ground as a ball of darkness shot from Terra’s hand. Xaldin and Lexaeus dodged out of the way and exchanging grim looks, they suddenly turned tail and fled into the fog.

Terra did not follow them. Ven tried to stand, but Aqua was sprawled across his chest, and she didn’t seem to be moving. In fact, her lip trembled as she brought her hands close to her chest. Her wrists twisted a little, and that was all Ven needed to see that the skin was black, burnt.

Aqua’s face contorted in agony. Before she could hurt any more, Ven cast a Curaga spell. The green glow enveloped her, eating away at the burns. He looked up when he heard a sudden gasp; Terra had seen everything.

“Aqua, I’m so sorry.”

She finally got off Ven, and he scrambled to his feet. Aqua remained on the ground, staring at it like it was the most interesting thing she had ever seen.

Terra tried again, “Aqua . . .”

“Is it true?” she asked harshly.

“Of course not!” Ven snapped.

Terra grabbed his shoulder. He gave Ven a meaningful look before turning to Aqua. “It is,” he said quietly.

She buried her head in her hands, and they could barely hear her say, “How could you?”

“I was a kid, and I was scared! I didn’t mean to do it!”

“You didn’t mean to stab a man through the heart,” Aqua said waspishly.

Terra pulled at his hair. “You don’t have the whole story,” he said, “it’s not what you think.”

“You killed someone.”

“ _It was an accident!_ ”

In the aftermath of Terra’s explosion, Ven was left shaking and cold. Black flames had travelled up Terra’s arms and like a fire, the sight had burned Ven’s insides and left nothing but ashes. Aqua had summoned Rainfell and despite himself, Ven had instinctively cupped his throat. Upon seeing the panicked, defensive reaction of his best friends, Earthshaker slipped from Terra’s fingers. Without a backwards glance, he fled and left them behind.

“Terra, wait!” Ven ran after him, and his voice startled Aqua into action. Terra was the slowest of them all, and he couldn’t have gotten far with his headstart. However, no matter where they looked, they couldn’t find him. Deep in his mind, Ven had known that they wouldn’t from the second Terra disappeared into the fog.

“Why did you do that, Aqua?” Ven couldn’t express the anguish he felt. They had been close, so close to getting out of here. Now he had Aqua back, but Terra was gone. At least Terra would have his Wayfinder to find them again.

Aqua shook her head, mortified. “I don’t know.”

She appeared remorseful enough, but that was no excuse. “You’re awful, Aqua.”

Aqua bowed her head, and he felt bad for upsetting her further.

“I want to go home,” he whimpered.

Aqua closed the distance and hugged him. Her face was buried in his spikes as she whispered, “I know.”

Ven sobbed and hugged back, and they held each other as the snow fell around them.

* * *

_Murderer._

“Shut up!” Terra half-sobbed.

The voice did not. It continued to taunt him, replaying memories of his friends’ horrified faces. Each time they flashed in front of his mind, a spasm of pain went through him. He had promised Master Eraqus and himself that he would protect them, even if it meant committing the greatest sacrifice. Now look at him: in his haste to attack Xaldin, he had hurt Aqua; and in his stupidity, he had almost killed Ven. He was a failure, a monster. Xaldin and Lexaeus were right to demand justice.

His legs burned, but he couldn’t stop running. He had to get as far away as he could from his friends. He was too dangerous to be around.

Things moved in the fog. He relished the thought of monsters lurking there. It would be nice to charge at them and forget. For him, the whirlwind of a good battle was better at clearing his mind than getting drunk. In a fight, only he and his opponent mattered; the rest of the world didn’t exist.

“Come on, come and get me!” he cried.

He turned in a circle, Earthshaker humming with power. The shadows fled when he stared at them, and he collapsed against a wall. Staring blankly ahead of him, he realized that one shadow had not fled. This one had a humanoid figure, about Ven’s height. He would have thought it was Ven, if the shadow had spiky hair.

“Oh, Terra,” said a silky, mocking voice, “what are you going to do now? Your so-called friends know the truth, and they hate you.”

“They do not!” he snapped back, ignoring how that had been the very thought he had moments before.

The voice laughed wildly. “Don’t be naïve – of course they do. You’ve committed a crime that goes against everything they stand for. In their minds, you’re nothing but a traitor.”

He tasted blood as he bit down on his lip. He wanted to be one hundred percent confident when he said that they didn’t hate him. The problem was that he couldn’t be. He had no idea what they thought of him, and if they did hate him, he wouldn’t blame them.

“You have nothing left,” the voice said, “just give up and rest for a bit. You’ll feel better after.”

Though the voice grated against his ears and the undertones of menace were clearly audible, Terra found it soothing. His Wayfinder started to glow, and he stared at it, puzzled.

“Ignore it,” the voice said. “Light isn’t the all-consuming force of good. You need darkness too.”

Terra was hesitant to trust that advice. He remembered all too well what had happened the last time he threw it away.

The fog lifted a little, and the figure came into focus. The organic-looking bodysuit that covered the boy was no lighter than his shadow had been. His clasped hands were behind his back, eerily similar to how Xaldin had looked.

“You don’t need to let it go,” the boy said, “just ignore it for a bit. Rest. It will make you feel better, I promise.”

Terra glanced between the masked boy and the Wayfinder. The idea of sleeping was so tempting, but he was afraid of what would happen if he did rest.

The boy walked closer and gently grabbed Terra’s wrist. Slowly, he guided it back to Terra’s chest, and dumped the Wayfinder in his pocket.

“Go on, sleep,” the boy said. “I’ll give you a shout if any monsters show up.”

Terra was silent for almost a minute. Then, he cautiously nodded. He let his eyes drift shut and focused on his breathing. In no time, the nothingness of sleep claimed him.

Behind his mask, the boy grinned.


	14. Chapter 14

Neither of them spoke; there was nothing to say. Terra had left, and they had no way of finding him. Ven had assured her that Terra had a way of coming back to them, and that once he stopped –as stated by Ven - being silly, he would. Aqua cracked a smile, but really, she just wanted to break down. When Xaldin had first told her about Terra’s past, she had been so shocked and hurt that Terra never trusted her enough to tell her, that she had spoken without thinking. She hadn’t understand why, _how_ Terra could commit such a crime, and she had grown more and more stressed when he refused to deny it. In retrospect, she should be proud that he didn’t, but in those moments, it felt like he had spat on her mother’s grave.

In the meantime, while they waited for Terra, she and Ven had decided to seek sanctuary in the shack in the apartment’s courtyard. She hadn’t been too keen on that idea, since she and Terra had somehow failed to meet each other there before, but Ven was correct in that it would shelter them from the snow, and it was closer than Brookhaven. Still, as Aqua remembered the warmth of the place, she couldn’t help but think the trip would have been worth it.

Wind rattled the walls. Ven looked up, frightened, and inched closer to her. Since Terra had disappeared, Ven had taken the definition of clinginess to an entirely new level. At first, he had been fine, if not agitated. But then he had rounded a corner, moved out of her eyesight for an instant, and the next second he was back and burrowing into her side, mumbling about air sirens. Bemused, Aqua told him that she hadn’t heard anything, and this just made him cling to her tighter. He hadn’t strayed more than half a metre away after that, and he always made sure Aqua was within his sight.

He had relaxed a little since they entered the shack, but every sound caused him to freeze up. Aqua had tried to wrestle out of him why he was so distressed, but Ven had shook his head and told her that she wouldn’t understand.

“It’s cold,” Ven suddenly croaked. “I wish Terra hadn’t taken my sweater.”

She was just about to ask him what sweater when the back of her neck prickled. She stood, slowly as not to alarm Ven, and turned to face the shack’s door. In the short time between now and when she had last been here, the handle had been broken and as a result, it wouldn’t shut. As she watched it flap in the wind, all those childhood warnings about locking your door rang through her mind.

She eased forwards, gently opening it. The thick fog hid everything, and except for the prints she and Ven had left, the sheet of snow was untouched. Yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that something else was here with them.

“Aqua?” By now, Ven had picked up on her worry. He stood too, summoning Wayward Wind.

“Maybe we should go to Brookhaven,” she said. She couldn’t explain it, but it didn’t feel safe here anymore.

“Go outside?” Ven choked out.

“Ven, is there something out there?”

Eyes closed, he shook his head. His jaw clenched.

“It’s a lot warmer in Brookhaven, and it’s safe,” she said, echoing what Naminé had told her.

Ven didn’t look at her. “I don’t think . . .”

She heard his breath hitch. Distantly, so faint it may have been her imagination, there was the sound of metal scraping against rock.

“Or maybe we should go,” Ven said quickly. He towed Aqua into the yard, spinning in a full circle as he took in their surroundings. She wasn’t sure what he was looking for.

Ven took off, making for the gate to the courtyard. His tight grip on her wrist was cutting off her circulation, and any attempts she made to shake him off only made it tighter.

“Ven, what’s going on?”

“Just trust me,” he said breathlessly.

They found themselves in the street, Ven bouncing from foot to foot as Aqua studied the map. At all times, he had physical contact with her, and it was beginning to annoy – and frighten – her.

“Ven, tell me what’s wrong.”

He stared at her, torn. “Me and Terra met a monster,” he said, biting his lip. “It wasn’t a heartless, and it was really big and scary.”

“Okay . . .” Terra wasn’t the type to back down from a challenge, so she wasn’t sure where Ven was going with this.

“It threw him off a building,” Aqua gasped, remembering the tale the two boys had told her, “and then it chased me though a clinic. There was something _wrong_ with it, Aqua. I couldn’t hurt it!”

“There’s something wrong with this town,” she murmured.

“I heard it in the shack,” Ven said. “I heard its knife.”

So it wasn’t just her imagination. “Do you think it’s following us?”

"I don’t know!” Ven grabbed his hair in his hands, seemingly unaware of the fact that he was rocking back and forth. “I thought it was stuck in that world.”

That _world_. Was Ven saying that there were things other than them that could travel between worlds? She chided herself for the surprise that resounded through her thoughts. It was arrogant to believe that keybladers, that they, were the only ones capable of navigating the Lanes Between. Yet she would have thought that the Master would have brought up that subject, if only so that the boys wouldn’t chase after any random stranger they saw touring the worlds.

“Come on, Ven. If it finds us, we’ll take care of it.”

Ven bit his lip nervously. His hand slid into hers and held it tight, something that hadn’t happened since the early days where a he, mute after his coma, had first ventured outside the castle. Hiding a frown, she squeezed back comfortingly. Ven immediately coloured and looked down, but he didn’t let go.

The fog seemed to close in around them. Ven was right next to her, she could feel his hand’s warmth in hers, but he seemed distant, like there was a glass barrier between them. However, this barrier was more in a mental sense in that whenever Aqua concentrated too hard on Ven’s wellbeing, something pushed back in the depths of her mind. It was almost like a message, a warning that Ven’s troubles were the least of her worries. She shivered again as the wind crept over her neck. The feeling of being watched had returned.

“Ven, what did this monster look like?”

“It was big, bigger than Terra. I don’t know if it had eyes – it had this giant helmet on – but I could feel it staring at me.”

Her heart was in her throat. “Did the helmet look like a pyramid?”

Ven looked at her with horror, dread, and a flurry of other emotions that passed by too quickly for her to identify. “You saw it, too?”

Snapshots of a childish drawing, of a gravestone bearing Ven’s name, flashed through her mind. Her heart jumped and dove back down her throat into her stomach, shuddering. “Not in person,” she said quietly.

Ven nodded with relief. “Good.”

Aqua asked, “What _is_ it?”

“I’m not sure,” Ven said. “It –”

He was interrupted by another voice. “Aren’t you sure?”

An eerie laugh echoed in the streets. Aqua pushed Ven behind her as she searched for the source of the sound. The hard bone of Ven’s shoulders pressed against her, and they stood back to back, keyblades appearing in a flash of light. They could see the edge of a tall building, the outline of a streetlamp on one side and a bench on the other, but there was no telling where the stranger was.

“Who’s there?” Aqua said.

Another chuckle. “I think you know.”

_Vanitas_. The word caressed her mind, as sinister and deadly as a serpent’s hiss. The syllables left a dull ache behind, and with a frown, she rubbed her forehead with the back of her hand.

“Not you again!” The venom in Ven’s voice caught her off guard, and she glanced up to see the shadow of Vanitas’ figure in front of her. The fog hid most of his form from scrutiny, but a glimmer of light bounced off his domed helmet.

“Oh, Ventus, still alive, I see.” Vanitas raised a gloved hand and idly examined it. “I thought you would be missing an arm by now. Did you at least enjoy the ride?”

Ven strode past her, an uncharacteristic snarl on his face. “You sent me to that place!”

“I didn’t send you anywhere,” Vanitas said. “If the darkness came for you, then that must mean you’re hiding some pretty interesting secrets deep in that heart of yours.”

Vanitas stepped forwards. The red markings on his chest glistened, as if made of blood. With the air of someone about to declare checkmate, he sneered, “Just like Terra.”

Ven lunged. Vanitas burst out laughing again, and with a burst of purple fire, he summoned a dark keyblade to meet Ven’s own. The resulting clang made her ears ring and just as Ven was bringing his keyblade back for another swing, Aqua cast a Reflect spell between the boys. The bright blue barrier shocked Ven, and he retreated back, Wayward Wind dragging along the ground.

“You should keep him on a leash,” Vanitas said to her.

She ignored him and turned to Ven, placing a comforting pressure on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Ven nodded. The barrier seemed to waver with the force of his glare.

She rubbed his back, and looked up at the dark boy who watched them with his head cocked to one side. “I’m the one he attacked,” Vanitas said. “Don’t I get some sympathy?”

She swallowed down her instinctive dislike for the boy. “You provoked him,” she pointed out.

He shrugged. “Anyone who loses their temper that easily doesn’t deserve to be a keyblade master.” The helmet swivelled to face Ven, and Aqua could feel the heat shooting between their faces. “They don’t deserve anything.”

Ven started forward, and her own fury had to be checked in favour of stopping him. He inadvertently pushed her back against the barrier, keyblade humming as he tried to get past her. From the other side, Vanitas approached leisurely and laid his hand upon the barrier. Aqua turned slightly. His helmet filled her vision and for a brief moment, it disappeared to be replaced by a youthful face with menacing yellow eyes.

And the barrier rippled as Vanitas reached _through_ and grabbed her wrist.

Electricity set her nerves on fire. She was deaf to her own rattling cry and Ven’s concerned ones. Vanitas stood above her as she fell to her knees, his grip on her wrist the only thing grounding her to reality. A great pressure bombarded the back of her mind, stunning her thoughts into silence, and smothering her consciousness. The pain was dying, replaced by an apathetic numbness. She felt like she was being lifted out of her own body, though she could still feel its pain. An icy hot dagger was forcing its way into her chest, burning it.

Her arm ached.

With an audible crack, Vanitas’ hold on her broke as Ven brought his keyblade down on his arm.

She gasped, oblivious to the clash above her. Her arm felt like someone had grabbed a sharp knife and was using it to etch something into her skin. Eyes closed, whimpering, she brought it close to her, rubbing it in hopes that it would make things better. She felt no blood or cuts underneath her fingers, but the pain was very real.

“Thundaga!”

The air pulsated with Ven’s fury. The lightning crashed down, striking Vanitas straight in the chest. Without a sound, the masked boy stumbled back, the tip of his keyblade dipping.

“Not bad,” he said, “but not good enough.”

“Really?” Ven said. “Because you don’t look so good.”

“Your concern is appreciated, but I’m not the one you should worry about.”

“Aqua!” Someone shook her and she instinctively lashed out. The presence retreated, and then returned. Ven was crouched by her, his voice high with fear as he tried to calm her. She forced her eyes open, meeting Ven’s wide ones. Shaking, she accepted Ven’s help to raise herself into a sitting position and leaned against him for support.

“What did you do?” Ven demanded. Aqua winced; the loudness of his voice made her head throb.

“Nothing that concerns you.” Vanitas lowered himself to one knee, hovering at Aqua’s eyelevel. “How are you feeling?” he asked her.

Ven stayed in his post as Aqua’s support, but slammed Wayward Wind down. It formed a diagonal bar, separating her from Vanitas. The masked boy chuckled.

“Look like the kitten’s grown some claws. Do you honestly think you would be enough to stop me, Ventus?”

Ven growled.

“That’s what I thought.” The arrogance of this boy was infuriating. Even when Ven’s keyblade began to spark, Vanitas didn’t hesitate to strut.

“But,” Vanitas held up a finger, “as much as I would love to hang around and chat, I have some other business I need to take care of. Oh, and Ven? There’s a friend here to see you.”

Vanitas stepped back into the fog just as they heard the sound of metal scraping against rock.

“Aqua, we need to go!”

She nodded and straightened up. Now that Vanitas was gone, she felt like a great weight had been lifted off her. The pain in her arm was receding, and she experimentally flexed it. The black bruises popped out and to her confusion, it seemed that they had moved. She twisted her head to study them, and saw that indeed, she was correct. Before, they had been random and like a patchwork quilt. Now, they were gathered in one mass. The sides of the site were rounded, meeting at a point at the bottom, almost like a heart.

“A-aqua!”

She whirled around and saw it.

The monster stood before them, motionless. Its great pyramid-shaped helmet was swathed in rust that seemed to dye the air around it blood-red. It towered above them, knife waiting at its side, and she could faintly hear what sounded like deep breathing.

She summoned her keyblade, and it shivered in her hands.

“You can’t fight it!” Ven cried. “We have to run!”

She heard Ven, but her body wouldn’t cooperate. She couldn’t tear her eyes away.

“Run!”

Ven pulled her away and broke the spell. At the same instant, the monster stumbled forwards.

It was a miracle that she kept up with Ven. She didn’t know whether he was checking his speed or fear had made her faster, but she wasn’t complaining. After losing Terra, the last thing she wanted was for Ven to wander off. She couldn’t see the monster anywhere behind them, but Ven was adamant that it was close by. She’d argued, commenting on how slow its gait was, only for it to appear right in front of them. After that, she made the decision to stop questioning Ven and just believe him instead.

But then he led them into a dead-end.

“No, no!” He was stuttering, shaking his head in denial. “I’ve been this way before, there was no wall here!”

Metal screeched behind them. The monster stood in the mouth of the alleyway, blocking any chance of escape.

Ven choked back a sob. He backed up, pressing himself into the wall. Aqua glanced from him, to the monster, back again, and set her jaw in grim determination. She stepped in front of Ven, shielding him from the monster’s hidden eyes. Rainfell came to her hand, and her armour followed a second later.

“Aqua,” Ven hissed, “what are you doing?”

She looked back at him and said nothing.

She made the first move. Keyblade raised, she charged the monster, throwing her hips into the swing. Sparks fell like rain around their feet as their blades locked. Immediately, the monster’s strength bore down on her, causing her muscles to shake. She disengaged, stepping back. She had never faced an opponent with so much raw power.

When the monster struck, its swing took up the entire width of the alley. The first one she dodged, the second she tried to block with Reflect. But when the knife came into contact with the spell, searing pain ran down her arm, and the monster withdrew the knife, thrust it forward and shattered the barrier. Step by step, it was forcing her backwards. Soon, she and Ven would be pinned.

With that knowledge, the next time the monster swung, she raced forward in the lapse that followed. Ignoring Ven’s cries, she brought Rainfell down and slashed the monster in the chest. Its helmet pointed down at her, and it stepped back to get a better look, as if curious. Undaunted, she whacked it again in the thigh, and when that failed to get a reaction, pointed her keyblade up at the monster’s chin and cast Firaga.

The earth shook as the monster stumbled. Behind her, Ven whooped and she couldn’t help a small smile. Since her magic appeared to be having an effect, she continued to use it, blasting the monster with spell after spell. It was working; now Aqua was the one forcing the other back.

But the monster was mighty and slowly, it pushed it way through her spells and began to take back lost ground. Panicking, Aqua cast Blizzard on the ground, hoping to make the monster slip. But the thing was so big and heavy that it broke the ice underneath its feet, and trudged forwards without any trouble.

She could hear Ven behind her, and that solidified her will. She wasn’t going to let this thing near him, even if it killed her.

The monster’s head turned and on its helmet, she could see the slits that the monster eyes must have been behind (how could it see them well enough to follow them?). She cast Firaga at that, but the spell broke over the monster’s helm, seeming to have even less effect than it did before. A flash of light, right in front of the helmet, gave the monster pause. Seeing that, she blinded it again, and then leapt forwards, landing and sliding on the ice. She slid past the monster, hooking Rainfell out as she did so . . .

Black blood splattered the ground.

It hissed and popped like acid as it was absorbed into the snow. The monster stumbled back, clutching the wound, and turned away completely from Ven to face her. She ducked into a fighting stance, willing the monster to approach and step further away from Ven.

It did.

Their blades met with such power that it nearly shattered her bones. A shockwave rang through the air, whipping the snow into a frenzy. Aqua disengaged just as the monster tried to wrench Rainfell out of her hands and failing that, tried to grab her. She backed away, slowly luring her foe out of the alleyway. The monster followed loyally, spitting the air in a downwards stroke so close that she had to flattened herself against a wall to avoid it, then dive backwards as the knife sunk into the stone.

The world opened up as they walked out of the alleyway. Aqua glanced around, wary of any other opponent that may be sneaking up on her. However, she couldn’t keep her eyes off the monster for long. It was hesitating in the mouth of the alley, as if considering abandoning her for Ven. She blasted it with Thundaga, which served to attract the monster’s attention, and lured it even farther from her friend.

The ground shook as the monster battered it with the knife and the vibrations, combined with the icy road, the nearness of the strike, and her own fear, caused her to miscalculate her next step. She tripped backwards, Rainfell falling from her fingers, and froze as she saw the monster towering above her.

She regained her wits just in time to roll out of the way. Calling Rainfell back to her, she twisted at the waist, and drove her keyblade through the monster’s shin. It fell to one knee, using its knife as a giant, rusty crutch.

She just didn’t expect it to recover so quickly.

Her head ached. She was on the ground against a crumbling wall. A shower of dust fell to the ground as she shifted. She blinked, trying to clear the black spots out of her vision. It came back to her suddenly: she had gotten too close, and the monster had attacked. Her back groaned in protest as she struggled to an upright position.

Ven. Her head snapped around. The monster was ignoring her and going after the younger apprentice, who was desperately shouting off spells. Her legs weren’t quite moving the way she wanted them to, but she stood anyways and teetered forward, back deep into the alley. The monster had Ven cornered, blocking off all escape as it brought the knife back. It thrust forwards, and Aqua threw all of her strength into her next spell.

“Magnera!”

The knife stopped. Then it inched back. The monster stared, seemingly stunned by the refusal of its weapon to obey. With a great heave, it pulled the knife sideways and broke the spell. However, Aqua had already succeeded in her goal. She cast Gravity next to anchor the knife to the ground, and then froze the monster’s feet in case it tried to chase them. Ven saw what she was doing and bolted past the monster, leaping into her arms.

She knew exactly when the monster broke free, because the resulting shudder ran up and down her spine. But it was okay; they were almost out of the alley.

Then the knife crashed into one of the buildings.

The entire world swayed. Cracks ran from the site of the impact all the way to the top. An avalanche of brick and plaster rained down, and Aqua just barely pushed Ven out of the way. When the dust cleared, a mountain of rubble stood between them and freedom.

Behind them, the knife screeched.

Ven summoned his armour and shakily held his keyblade up. She took one look, and then secured him behind her. She didn’t know how she was going to defeat this thing, but she wasn’t about to stand back and let Ven get hurt.

The monster swung.

Their blades met.

Rainfell hummed as she forced her magic into the keyblade. The shaft shimmered with light and surprisingly, she felt her opponent weaken.

“It’s weak to light,” Ven whispered behind her.

She heard him, and focused all her energy into making Rainfell glow. The light increased in intensity, and the keyblade grew hot in her hands as if she were handling a sun. The monster continued to press back and small cracks ran down the keyblade’s shaft, but the monster was cringing against the force of her spell. She clenched her jaw, ignored Rainfell’s whispered warnings and set one final surge of power into the keyblade.

A bone-shaking snap.

Rainfell disappeared.

The knife clattered to the ground.

The monster groaned and fell back through a dark portal that opened up behind it. The portal closed, and its knife dissolved into the air.

She had won.

Then why was there only horror?

She could feel it: an ice-cold dagger thrust into her heart. Shaking, Aqua held her hand up and frantically tried to summon her keyblade. It appeared in a flash of light, hovering in the air in front of her. She reached out, grabbed the handle . . .

And the keyblade _shattered_.


	15. Chapter 15

 “A-aqua?”

“It’s a trick; it has to be. Keyblades can’t break. The Master would have told us about it.”

Ven felt helpless as Aqua gathered up the remains of her keyblade. Her murmurs were frantic, and her sentences only became more disjointed as her efforts to rebuild Rainfell failed. She tried to freeze the pieces together, but her spell didn’t create ice, only a casing of frost which quickly broke under the strain of her violently shaking hands.

“Aqua, we can’t stay here.”

“No!” Aqua shoved him away when he tried to haul her to her feet. “Just let me think.”

“It’s _broken_!” Ven cried. “We won’t be able to do anything until we get back to the Master.”

“I can fix this,” Aqua mumbled. “I need more time.”

Ven glanced behind them as dogs barked in the distance. He didn’t know how to help Aqua, but he knew they had to go. Of the two of them, she had always been the strongest. Where he was swift, she was lithe and cunning; where he had fled, she had won. But now Aqua was unarmed, throwing him into the precarious position of the protector, and he wasn’t sure he could rise to the occasion. He needed to get Aqua out of harm’s way as quickly as possible.

He reached over and dismissed Aqua’s armour for her. As the cool air brought goosebumps to her skin, she finally looked up from her fruitless endeavour. Her hair was stuck to her cheeks, as if wet, and Ven had never seen her look so lost before. Just as the glossy metal of Rainfell had dulled, the light in her eyes was dim. He could see his own fatigue mirrored in her.

“Come on,” he said gently, “we have to get somewhere safe.”

Aqua refused to leave her keyblade. She gathered up all the pieces and hugged them to her chest the way a child would hold a teddy bear. Some of the shards pierced her skin, and rivets of blood gave her clothes a striped pattern. Ven tried to take some of the pieces from her, just to minimize how much she was hurting herself, but Aqua shook her head and held them even tighter.

“I can feel it, Ven,” she whispered. “In my heart, it feels like something’s missing.”

“Nothing’s missing,” he said with much more confidence than he felt. “It’s still there; we just have to get the Master to fix it.”

He led her around like a dog. Aqua wasn’t paying any attention to the road, even when – according to the map – they passed through areas that should have been blocked. He threw the map in her face, begging her to get them to Brookhaven Hospital. However, Aqua had somehow become even worse than he was with directions. Barely three minutes in, and she led them into another dead-end in an alley.

 “We’re never going to get out of here,” Ven said. It was still snowing, but his body was strangely hot. Being in a state of perpetual fear tended to do that. It also made your muscles so tense that they ached whenever you stopped moving. He looked out at the swirling fog that hid everything, then back at Aqua who stared into space, and felt hopelessness engulf him. He wanted to shut his eyes and pretend this was all a nightmare.

The soft sound of crunching snow reached him. Ven backpedalled into the alleyway, readying his keyblade. The footsteps sounded much too light to be the monster, but there were plenty of other things in this town. Whatever it was, he prayed he would be strong enough to face it.

The shadow was small, and flared out at the bottom. He could make out the sight of hair blowing in the wind, and whomsoever hair it was, it was short. There was no sign of a weapon, but Ven got into a stance anyways, bringing his keyblade back behind him in his reverse grip.

The shadow raised its hands in a gesture of surrender.

His mouth was dry. Aqua was still in a trance, blind to everything but the pieces of her beloved keyblade. At this rate, she would hinder rather than help in a fight. Protecting her would be akin to being a stray chasing other dogs away from its dinner, only if one got past him, then everything was lost. Though it was selfish of him, he had half a mind to whack her on the head to force her back to reality.

The figure passed through the last sheet of fog, and Ven burst into a wide smile.

“Xion! What are you –?”

She slapped a hand over his mouth, a finger to her lips. “I can get you to Brookhaven,” she said. “Follow me.”

Finally, things were looking up. He grabbed Aqua’s hand and took off after Xion, who was walking so fast that he had to jog to keep up. Her movements were stiff, her eyes narrowed and hooded as she kept a careful watch on their surroundings. Ven helped too, but mostly he left it to her. After the harrowing escape from the monster, it felt so good to let someone else take charge.

“What happened to you?” he asked. “You disappeared at the clinic.”

“I was afraid,” Xion said, “of standing up to him. Even with Naminé around, I thought it was impossible to do that. But Terra, he . . .” She shook her head with awe. “He was amazing. He ripped a hole through the dimensions to save you, and if he could do that, then I,” she took a deep breath, “then I can do this for you.”

“Xion, who is this man you keep talking about?”

Aqua looked up, finally showing some semblance of her regular self. Xion dropped her voice and said, “He’s the reason you’re here.” Before Ven could say anything else, she added, “I can’t tell you his name. It might draw his attention.”

“If I ever see him, I’m going to get Terra to punch him in the face,” Ven huffed.

A ghost of a smile crossed her face. “I would enjoy that.”

To Xion, it was like the fog wasn’t there. She moved quickly, confidently, with nary a misstep. Ven did his best to literally follow in her footsteps, towing Aqua behind him. The older apprentice moved without his encouragement now, although she did space out from time to time.

Light poured from the hospital’s windows, cutting through the fog like the beam of a lighthouse. After that, he saw the towering outline of the building, which wavered as Ven craned his head back. They ran up the cracked path to the doors, and watching them open felt as good as winning the lottery.

A wall of heat smashed into him. Combined with the swelter of his untamed emotions, it was positively suffocating. He greedily sucked in air, longing for the cool of the outside, but too scared to seek it. He could see Xion visibly relaxing, the tension rolling off her hunched shoulders. The black cloak dragged behind her, limp in the absence of the wind. Between the two of them and the bleeding Aqua, they made their way down the long halls like a procession of wounded soldiers, staggering and leaning against each other for support. They collapsed in the cafeteria, but Ven soon found himself walking over to Aqua.

She had Rainfell’s pieces spread out on a table. The blue shaft of the broken keyblade had darkened to the inky tint of the ocean’s depths, and its edges glistened red with Aqua’s blood. Some of it came off on Ven’s fingers as he handled the shards and tried to mend them the way he would solve a puzzle. However, no amount of prayer would glue these back together, and very few, if any, of the parts fit.

“You need to get that cleaned up,” he said, eyeing the blood on Aqua’s arms. He spoke gently, as if she were a child, and was careful not to make any sudden movements. This was new territory for them all, and he was terrified that something would shatter their fragile peace. He wasn’t the one with a broken keyblade, but he could empathise. Wayward Wind was part of him; he could feel its energy swirling around in his soul, and would sooner wish to lose his arm.

Aqua didn’t move, but once presented with the supplies, she started mopping up the mess. Ven sat across from her, watching impatiently. She performed her task slowly but thoroughly, and a metallic clink marked every sliver she pulled out of her body.

It was awful to watch. Ven’s stomach turned over as he realized that all of this had been for him. At the time, panic had drowned out his ability to reason, but in the stupor caused by the aftermath, he could think clearly. Once the monster eliminated Aqua as a threat, she had been removed from the equation entirely. The monster had abandoned its easy prey for one still standing. It had no interest in Aqua; it was here for him.

And what about Terra? Would it have hurt him if Ven hadn’t been there? Ven’s heart skipped a beat, remembering Terra’s face as he fell into the abyss. This was _his_ fault. However accidently, he’d led his friends here. All their troubles and hurt, all their terror and pain, it was because of him.

For the first time in his life, Ven knew hate.

Aqua laid the red cloth down. The bleeding had stopped, but the cuts looked like they would start up again any second. Aqua mouthed Curaga, but without her keyblade, her magic refused to function. Her lip trembled; perhaps even more than her keyblade, Aqua’s magic was part of who she was. Although it would upset her more if he stepped into fix it, Ven couldn’t stand to let his friend remain hurt. He leaned over and cast his own spell, and his mouth dropped open when the wounds refused to heal. Perhaps some magic had survived in Rainfell after all, enough to cripple its former master.

They sat in silence, eyes fixed on the table. Neither stirred when Xion stood. Eyes closed, she wandered over to the doorway, where her nails dug into the wooden frame.

The small hand that landed on her shoulder was frail, like a butterfly’s wing. Something about Naminé’s entire attire spoke of sorrow and vulnerability. She met Xion’s eyes, nodded a sad thanks, and glided into the room. Ven looked up at the girl who had tried so hard to get them out of here.

 “It was the monster,” Ven said, “the one with the helmet.”

“Pyramid Head,” Naminé said. “Most people just call him the Bogeyman.”

Naminé approached, and surprisingly, went straight past the broken keyblade. Instead, she poked at the exposed bruises on Aqua’s arm. “Aqua,” she said, voice high with fear, “where did you get this?”

“It was another monster.” Ven flinched at the flatness of Aqua’s tone.

“Was it in the church?”

Aqua nodded.

“Oh, no.” Naminé backed away, a hand over her mouth. She sat at an adjacent table, head in her hands.

“Naminé?” Ven slid down to her table, casting a worried glance at Aqua. However, she did not react to his absence. “Is it bad?”

 “Yes.”

His head met the table. How much more could they handle? Terra was gone, Aqua’s keyblade was gone, darkness liked to transform the town into something from his nightmares, crazy monsters chased him everywhere, and he couldn’t even find his way to the next street! At least Brookhaven was supposed to be safe. When they got home, he wanted a nice warm bath and his bed.

“Naminé,” Xion said. Her voice was quiet, but she gulped and with a set look in her eyes, spoke more firmly. “Before you send them out again, I think they need to rest.”

Naminé tried to speak, but Xion cut over her. “Look at them! They’ll pass out from exhaustion before the town gets them. Ven, when’s the last time you ate?”

“Honestly,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “not since last night. I’ve kind of been too busy to notice.”

“See?” Xion said triumphantly.

“I suppose,” Naminé said, “that it won’t hurt to wait, especially if they don’t leave the building. Thank you, Xion. Be safe.”

Ven stood. “You’re leaving?” he asked Xion.

“I have to,” Xion said, “they’ll be wondering . . . Oh!”

Using all his awesome speediness, he had flung himself into Xion’s arms. She wobbled under the added weight, drinking it in with an expression that was both wary and shyly pleased. It was odd, Ven thought as her hair made him sneeze, to hug someone who wasn’t taller than him. If he wanted to, he might just be tall enough to hold something out of Xion’s reach. Someday, he would have to try it.

A lonely part of his mind imagined Terra’s whistle. He would be so proud that a girl was hugging Ven for a reason besides, as Terra put it, his puppy-dog eyes being too cute to resist. Of course, Terra would be certain to comment on the fact that Ven had to initiate the hug, to which Aqua would hug him to spite Terra, leaving the oldest apprentice quite putout. He turned his head, checking if Aqua had plans to take Terra’s place, but she wasn’t looking anywhere near him.

His fingers brushed over Xion’s skin as he put some distance between them. “Will you be okay?” he asked.

“Don’t worry about me,” Xion said.

 “Don’t say that!” On an impulse, he clasped his hands over hers. “You’re my friend, so I have to worry about you.”

A light blush crept onto her cheeks. Ven blinked, and then let her hand drop, the contact suddenly all too awkward.

To his surprise, Xion grabbed his hand. “I’ll be fine, Ven,” she insisted. “You just need to worry about getting you and your friends out.”

“You’re not coming with us?”

“I can’t.”

That was not acceptable. Xion’s eyes widened when she saw how close he was standing. He held her in place by the upper arms, though his grip was loose enough that she could break free if she wanted.

“Why can’t you come with us?” Ven asked. “This place isn’t safe! You don’t deserve this; no one does.”

“You don’t understand, Ven.” She gently removed his hands. “I’m not like you.” Before he could question her further, she nodded her head at Aqua and said, “Go, worry over her and Terra. They’re the ones that need your help.”

“Just promise you’ll be careful.”

“I will.”

She leaned over and touched her lips to his cheek. This time, Ven was the one left blushing.

Too awed to protest her departure, he raised his hand to the spot. He wanted to touch it and make sure that hadn’t been a dream, but loathed the thought of getting it dirty. Terra would have told him he was being a girl.

“You two seem _very_ close,” Aqua remarked. She – at long last – had some life in her. True, dark bags hung under her eyes and she looked otherwise ready to faint, but she was talking to him of her own free will. At this point, he was happy with just that.

“Aqua!” Lacking Xion, he flung himself into her arms next. Despite everything, he was in a fabulous mood.

She sighed. “Ven,” she said fondly.

A tiny cough interrupted them. Naminé stood at Aqua’s shoulder, looking uncomfortable as all attention focused on her.

“There’s food in the kitchen,” she said at length. “You should probably eat.”

As if it heard her, his stomach growled. “That sound good,” he said. “Aqua, are you coming?”

Her hand twitched as she glanced back at Rainfell. With a visible effort, she stood and tore herself away from the keyblade, eyes fixed straight ahead. They followed Naminé into the hall and despite his stomach’s previous message to him, he wasn’t looking forward to this. He’d spent a good day or so in the town and observed how rundown it was. What would the food be like? He couldn’t imagine it being very fresh. All he could imagine was mouldy bread and rusty cups.

Like most of Brookhaven, the kitchen was white. Only the counters, where food had once been prepared, held a tint of colour. Here, red defaced the wood, leftovers from the act of slicing and cooking meat. The knives themselves lay lengthwise by the edge, close enough that Ven feared a careless action would knock them to the ground. However, he didn’t think they were intentionally set up as a booby-trap; it was more likely they were there so that Naminé could easily reach them.

She ignored them and the fridge, instead climbing atop a stool and opening up the cupboards. Dozens of cans were stacked upon the shelves in an assortment of sizes and colourful labels. She started to take some out, but Ven jumped up and began making requests. At first, Naminé and Aqua stared at him with confusion, though Naminé did retrieve the cans he requested. It was after the fourth one that Aqua rolled her eyes, understanding. He was making a rainbow.

“The _best_ rainbow ever!” Ven said when Aqua mentioned that.

She sighed and ruffled his hair.

The mush inside the first can he opened was gross and disgusting. The girls didn’t seem to mind, but Ven had to force it down his throat, shuddering as it slid down. It tasted faintly of metal, sharp and bland. According to the label, it was canned peaches, but if that was true, he wasn’t sure what he had been eating in the Land of Departure for all this time.

“I think I’d rather go hungry,” Ven said. Actually, he really didn’t need any food anyways. He must have been out there for hours, but he wasn’t the least bit hungry or thirsty. He was tired at times, they all were, but it came and went.

“That’s not a good idea,” Naminé warned. She pushed another can towards him.

Ven whined in the back of his throat and with his eyes, pleaded for Aqua to save him. She continued to stare at her mostly untouched meal.

“Aqua?” He shook her shoulder.

She jerked. “What?” She glanced from the table to their wide stares. “Oh, I’m not that hungry.”

Ven passed her his can of food. “You should eat.” He hadn’t paid that much attention when Naminé told him that, but Aqua’s lifelessness was freaking him out.

She shook her head. “No, I . . . I think I’m going to go lay down.”

Exhaling deeply, Aqua pushed herself to her feet and left. Ven stared, feeling that he should go after her. He stood, grabbed a couple of cans just in case she changed her mind, and followed.

Naminé frowned, her eyes dark with worry.


	16. Chapter 16

_It was so cold._

_Terra pulled his jacket in closer, shivering as air flowed through the holes. One hand keeping it in place, he used the other to pick the lock, a grin breaking across his face when he heard the tell-tale click. The doors opened easily, as if inviting him in._

Some security _, he scoffed. The warehouse was old and dirty, with crumpled wrappers lying everywhere. Dozens upon dozens of huge boxes lined metal shelves, which divided the warehouse into what may have been a hundred aisles. Within them, every nook and cranny was filled, and somewhere in here, there must have been something worth a bit of money._

_He ran down the aisle, letting his intuition guide him. It flared up at the second one, pointing at a box whose bottom was right above his head. He leapt up, sinking his nails into the metal shelf, and pulled himself up. Out came his pocketknife, and he neatly ripped through the tape keeping the top shut._

_A plume of gritty dust flew into his face. He sneezed once, but that was it. He couldn’t even tell apart the new dirt from the dirt already matted in his hair._

_Jackpot! These were furs; he could definitely sell them. The clothes were as precious as gold to him, and he took them out carefully, as if they would shatter at any sudden movement. Once out, he was much less careful, and set to stuffing some down his clothes. When his clothes were filled to bursting, he flung a few more over his shoulder and carried the rest. It was so hard not to laugh; he could almost hear the coins jiggling in his pocket._

_He should have known that it wasn’t going to go according to plan._

_“Stop! Who’s there?”_

_The order came just as Terra stepped outside the warehouse. For a moment, he was frozen. Then he was sprinting, letting the furs fall from his arms._

_The guards followed him, two of them; big, strong and determined. Some more of Terra’s precious cargo slipped out as he vaulted a fence, hoping that its height would deter his pursuers._

_One made it; one did not. Terra could tell by the voice that the one following him was fairly young for a cop. That only meant that he could perform the feats that Terra could. No amount of climbing, jumping or sprinting shook the young cop, and much too soon, Terra felt the burn in his legs._

_At last, too exhausted to run, he crawled underneath a dumpster and prayed._

_“You got him, Fair?”_

_“Yeah, he’s holed up under here. Hey, just relax, kid. We don’t want to hurt you; we’re the good guys!”_

_The young cop’s head appeared. He extended a welcoming hand to Terra, smiling. “We just want to talk to you.”_

_Terra was still, not trusting himself to speak. The cop backed off, waiting, and slowly, Terra inched his way toward the open._

_“Come on, just a little further.”_

_The light fell across Terra’s face as he peeked out of his hiding place. He eyed the young cop, then the other, bigger one, and hurriedly made to retreat underneath the dumpster._

_“Whoa, don’t do that!”_

_Terra saw a hand swooping down towards him and reacted –_

_Officer Fair lay dead on the ground._

 

 

 

 

Terra woke with a scream in his throat.

He was first aware of the sound of dripping water, and then the cool metal on his back. He was lying down, with a ratty sheet covering his upper body. It was warm underneath the covers, comfortably so, almost like home. Only home didn’t smell like mould.

Stone made up the ceiling above. It was divided into a checkered pattern, with the edges of each square betraying a long life. Drops of water gathered on the ceiling, forming crystals before they fell and scattered on the ground. The walls were worse; here, erosion had carved pathways to the floor, thick enough that Terra’s finger could easily fit inside.

Save for his bed, a sink and a toilet, the room was bare. It was long, but narrow and should Terra have stood in the middle and put his arms out, he would have been able to touch both sides. The length was about five paces, though with such a lacking width, it didn’t seem like much. Thick stone greeted him on three sides; on the fourth were iron bars.

He was in a cell.

Terra scoffed. Did they really think a cage could hold him? He didn’t even need to exert any energy.

He raised Earthshaker, pointed it at the cell lock, and held it steady. It would be so easy. It would just take a thought.

And yet, the more he thought about it, the more he thought it was the wrong thing to do.

He could escape, yes, and then what would he become? A fugitive. He could easily keep that secret, restrict that knowledge to the forgotten voids of his mind and never let it see the light of day. But would it remain there, or would someone from his past drag it out into the open? Would his friends ever trust him again if it did? Did they now?

Shaking, he lowered his keyblade. Unlike last time he had woken up in a strange place, Terra remembered exactly what had occurred previously. Especially Aqua’s expression. There had been horror there, and fear. Even before, when Terra had lost control of his darkness in the castle, Aqua had never looked at him that way. Sure, she had feared his darkness, had feared what he could do when he lost control, but she had never been afraid of _him_. And that hurt even more than her rejection had.

He sunk back onto the bed, and held his head in his hands. His chest heaved with the sobs he held back, not wanting to appear weak even in this dismal place. His neighbour didn’t quite feel that way. Terra could hear him blabbering frantically, and then bursting into giggles.

_He’s mad_ , Terra thought with scorn. He sobered up though when he realized that this was what his life had been reduced to. One secret, one rash move had cost him everything. He would spend the rest of his life tiptoeing around the crazies.

_Aqua . . . Ven . . . Master . . . I’m sorry._

He had failed in every way. He failed to redeem himself for Master Eraqus, failed to take care of Ven, and failed to keep Aqua safe. And in failing them, he had failed himself. His friends were lost in a nightmare with their Master innocently unaware.

A crack resonated through the prison as his neighbour bashed his head against the wall. Terra didn’t notice. His attention was consumed by memories of the monsters, of the dark world, of the sirens that beckoned them all. What was he thinking, leaving his friends to deal with that alone? He couldn’t . . . He _swore_ . . .

He failed them once, he wouldn’t fail them again.

He whipped Earthshaker up, snarling. _No matter what_ , he vowed, _I_ will _get them out of here._

A beam of light connected Earthshaker and the lock, and the time between that and the resulting click seemed endless.

The bars scraped against the floor as he pushed them open. The prison block was empty, dark, and water ran everywhere on the walls and pooled on the floor. A humid stream of air wound its way through the hall, making the place appear smoggy under the red-tinted lights. It didn’t seem like a prison; he thought one would be better guarded.

Out of curiosity, before he left, he checked the cell next to him. There was no sign of the laughing man, but there were bloody hand and footprints all over the floor. Though they seemed random, eventually Terra saw that they originated from the bed – no, under the bed – and ended at the wall that connected his designated cell with this one. At this point, the wall was marred with scratches and blood.

As he walked past the cell and down the block, he heard the man giggle again.

The lights randomly waned and regained strength during his journey through the labyrinth. The layout made no sense; he was sure he had gone this way a few times already. Even if Terra had been reckless enough to do so, there was no one to ask for directions. The cells were empty; the halls were empty; he didn’t see anyone. However, he kept hearing things. He heard laughter, whispers, crashes and rattling chains. At no point, was he able to pinpoint the origin of the noises. He was beginning to think this place was haunted.

When he heard the footsteps, he paid them no mind. They were one of the many sounds that continued to haunt him. But this time, the sound was attached to a couple of legs that moved as if they were broken in a few places. Slowly, the humanoid figure shambled up behind Terra, holding a bloody knife in its hand.

The point came down on his armoured shoulder, and slid off.

Terra whipped around, ducking back as the knife came down again. Earthshaker was summoned, raised, but the monster was too close for him to strike at it. At most, he could hold the keyblade horizontal and use it to push it back. That was easier said than done though, when the other party had a close-range weapon.

The monster flopped over where Terra had shoved the side of his keyblade into its body, as if it lacked bones. He grabbed the wrist before it could stab him in the eye, twisting it in an attempt to force the hand to release the knife. Instead, he just twisted the entire forearm and snapped the bone. The monster pressed against him, its other hand twitching forwards and grabbing hold of his shirt.

One of monster’s legs slipped behind his and he stumbled over it, bringing them both to the ground. The monster crawled on top of him, straddling his waist and there Terra saw just how disturbingly human it was. The monster was clearly female, yes, he could tell. It had _clothes_ : a white blouse that ended in a V below the neck, exposing areas at which Terra tried his hardest not to stare. The top was stained with grime and blood, but it was still clearly distinguishable as a uniform, a nurse’s uniform. The nurse’s face appeared to be enveloped in bandages, but he could see the flesh underneath them contorting as she moaned.

She was too close for Earthshaker. He grappled with her for the knife, one hand on one of her wrists, the other reaching across her chest. She bent over his arm, her face coming eerily close to his, and a sour smell leaked into his nostrils. He jerked back, but she followed, creeping even further up his chest, so that her knees reached his shoulders. The knife teasingly hung above him, red in the light.

The knife flashed, plunged, and Terra moved his head to the side. The upright blade, embedded in the ground, quivered next to him. His eyes were glued to that for a few seconds, and in that time, the nurse adapted to her loss of a weapon. His breath caught as cold, clammy hands travelled up his chest to his throat.

Not on his watch. With a grunt and a massive influx of strength, he shot up and grabbed the nurse by the shoulders, slamming to her to the ground. Now he was in charge. He placed one knee on either side of her waist, preventing her from fleeing. Underneath him, the nurse thrashed, alternatively batting at his torso or reaching for her knife. Though he didn’t think she had the reach to get it, he grabbed her wrists and as a precaution, held them above her head.

 With his other hand, he summoned Earthshaker.

The nurse saw this and started to shake her head. Weird, undecipherable moans came from her, and Terra steeled himself. He brought Earthshaker down, and a piercing scream echoed through the prison.

His heart was racing. Terra rolled off the monster’s body, panting as he lay against a wall. That scream, it had sounded . . . it had sounded like a _real_ person. Terrified at what he may find, he leaned forward to glance at the corpse.

No blood. It was okay.

Kingdom Hearts, he wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take. His nerves were strung so tightly that they would snap with any more tension. He hadn’t eaten for at least a day, although he didn’t feel hungry. Dreamily, he noticed that he had stabbed the nurse exactly where he had stabbed Officer Fair. That brought him back to reality, and with horror, he realized that it bothered him less than it should have.

  _I need to get out of here_. He stood and stumbled forwards, one hand on the wall. He’d navigated the maze of Wonderland before, he could get out of this. All he had to do was follow the right wall.

Chains rattled. Terra closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and held Earthshaker up. What now?

Down the hallway, where the straight path was blocked and he either would have to turn right or left, a shadow passed. There was no body attached to it, at least not one that he could see. A heartbeat after the shadow faded from view, there was the sound of whooshing air, then the thunk of flesh falling against rock.

He was still, waiting for any other signs of danger. When none appeared, he tiptoed down the hall, peeking to the side that the shadow had crossed. There was still no sign of a body, but there was fresh blood splattered against the wall.

* * *

_Follow the right wall_. That mantra became his anchor to sanity. Terra never stopped moving, his feet moving automatically even when his mind failed to function. Earthshaker remained in his hand, and his eyes were wide and haunted as they took in his surroundings. Ahead of him, he saw the shadow of a hanging man, heard the strain on the wood as it swung from side to side; yet, he knew, if he looked behind him, nothing would be there. There were giggles and voices from the dark cells, and he’d nearly had a heart attack when someone began knocking on the bars as he passed. Again, he saw no one. It was like he was caught in the middle of a shadow-puppet show, unable to see the audience or the puppeteers.

The only living beings he saw were nurses. Sometimes, he snuck past them. Other times, they fought. He beat them, of course, and each of them screamed when they died. The last few had left behind the scent of the ocean.

And then he was no longer in the halls. He stood in a large, circular room instead. Behind him, an iron gate slid across the floor, separating him from the door. He glanced at it, uninterested; he could unlock it whenever he wanted.

On one side, there was a reception office built into the wall. Otherwise, the room was empty. He wasn’t surprised that the owners had packed up and left; who wanted to work in a place with creepy monsters everywhere? On that note, who in the worlds would want to live in this town anyways? Whoever they were, they should be checked into an asylum.

He approached the office, hoping it might have a map. The light from the room didn’t illuminate much of the office’s interior, so he pulled out his flashlight. The beam passed over the wall, casting long, waving shadows.

And lit up a pair of orange eyes.

Earthshaker hummed, sparkling with energy. The figure did not move, his hands clasped behind his back. Their standoff was brief, over when Terra realized that this was not someone he had to fight. Awkwardly, he lowered his keyblade, too weary and suspicious to offer an apology.

“It’s not safe here,” Terra croaked. “You need to leave.”

The other man said, “And what of you, keyblader? Will you continue down this dark path?”

“Not if I can help it.”

The man nodded. He stepped to the side, out of the beam of Terra’s flashlight. A door opened, and the man stepped into the circular room. Oh. Terra was pretty sure a door hadn’t been there before.

The man wore a black cloak, exactly like the one Xaldin and Lexaeus had worn. He closed his eyes, shuddering as he relived the memory. Even more than Officer Fair’s death, having his friends find out that way was the worst moment of his life.

“Who are you?” Terra asked.

“My name is Xemnas. I am here to offer my assistance.”

“Assistance?” He shook his head, convinced this was all a sick joke. “You can help me get out of here?”

“No.”

It was a good thing he hadn’t gotten his hopes up. Still, Terra felt as angry as if he had, and his voice dripped with venom as he growled, “Then what are you talking about?”

“I cannot help you escape this place; that is up to you, and you alone. However, I may assist your transition. I can help make existing in this place simpler.”

“Tell me.” At this point, Terra was willing to try anything.

Xemnas dipped his head. “You must learn to accept,” he said, as he walked past him.

“Accept what, that this town is freaking insane?”

“Not that.” Xemnas looked over his shoulder, and his mouth curled into a cruel smile. “You must accept the darkness inside of you.”

Terra stiffened. Eraqus’ words rang through him: _the darkness can never be trusted_.

Xemnas laughed hollowly. “You place absolute trust in that man, a man who failed to even inform you of what dangers you would be facing? A cruel test, is it not?”

It didn’t even occur to Terra that he hadn’t spoken out loud. “Test?”

“Eraqus is not the man you believe him to be. He is intelligent, knowledgeable, but blind and certainly not wise. He is mortal: right about some things, wrong about others.”

“You don’t know anything,” Terra growled.

“No? I know you killed Officer Fair. I know you tried to kill Ventus, Terra.”

“That wasn’t my fault!” he roared.

Xemnas held up a hand for silence and despite himself, Terra obeyed. Xemnas’ head tilted to one side, studying him as if Terra was a particularly interesting painting. “I also know that you _saved_ Ventus, and that it was not your light that assisted you in that task, but the darkness.”

His mouth was dry. Terra clenched his fists and looked away, unwilling to admit anything.

“Darkness is but a tool,” Xemnas said, “no more a force of evil than the light is one of good. They are the same as that keyblade you hold: capable of saving a world, or bringing ruin upon it.”

“It’s users of darkness who bring ruin upon the worlds,” Terra rasped.

“On what evidence?” Xemnas asked. “Your Master preaches, but does he offer proof? He is blind, Terra, scared of a force he does not understand. He fears the darkness.”

Xemnas stepped closer, so that the bottom of his cloak brushed against Terra’s feet. “He fears you.”

The hairs on his nape prickled. Terra stepped back, breathing hard as not to lose his temper. The other man was unarmed, but he had the air of a fighter around him. His cloak outlined hard muscles, and Terra was keenly aware of his lack of fear. However, since he still had yet to draw a weapon, Terra would force himself not to lash out.

“He has crippled you, Terra, tamed you. Through this preconception he has planted in your mind, he has locked a leash around your neck.” A tanned finger rose, sliding across Xemnas’ neck and at the motion, Terra thought he could feel something around his own. Xemnas smirked. “As long as you are content to be led around like a dog, you will _never_ escape this place.”

“I don’t care about myself,” Terra admitted. “I just want my friends out of here.”

“Then you need the darkness. It helped you once, let it help you again.”

For a brief second, Xemnas’ eyes flashed yellow, and something within him responded. Terra gasped and tore away down one of the halls, a hand over his heart. He could feel energy curling inside him, pounding at his ribcage in a frenzied attempt to get free.

“If you continue to hold it in, then eventually, it will explode out of you.” Xemnas had followed him leisurely, eyes gleaming. “You must surrender, Terra. Give into the darkness.”

“No!” Terra snarled. “I’ll . . . I’ll figure this out. My way, not anyone else’s!”

“Not even your Master’s?”

Terra closed his eyes. He didn’t know what to think anymore. He knew, had known since he was a little boy, that the darkness was forever a part of him. Through Eraqus’ training, he had suppressed, but never eliminated it. It would always be there, lurking, waiting, striking out when he let his guard down. The darkness, his darkness, was dangerous.

But Xemnas was right too. The darkness had saved Ven, allowed him to open that portal to reach his suffering friend. Apart from darkness, there was only the power of light and he . . . he wasn’t like Aqua or Ven.

He looked back at Xemnas. “I’ll do this my way,” he said firmly.

Xemnas said nothing, but as he watched Terra’s retreating back, he smiled.


	17. Chapter 17

It was so cold.

Aqua’s clothes felt like ice against her flesh. She fumbled with the covers, fingers brushing against her shirt and becoming icy cold as well. It wasn’t from temperature, she realized, but dampness. She was soaked, covered in sweat.

The light was much too bright, and her head began to pound when she forced her eyes open. They didn’t stay that way for long, as unless she made a conscious effort to keep them open, her eyelids drifted shut on their own. It didn’t feel like she had slept at all.

Her arm hurt. She raised herself into a sitting position, and was immediately hit by a wave of nausea. Groaning, she laid her head back on the pillow, wrapping herself in the blankets. Why was it so cold?

Something was wrong. Her mouth felt like cotton; her throat, swollen. She couldn’t stop shaking, and her efforts to shout Ven’s name only resulted in a croak. Her eyes were closed, but the world was still spinning around her. She felt like she was suspended in space.

Aqua tried to get out of bed, but her knees buckled the instant weight was put on them. She slipped to the ground, clawing at the bed, and the covers came with her to land on top. As her skull smacked into the ground, new pain joined the old.

 “V-Ven?” she rasped.

Though she was freezing, the cool floor was refreshing. She peeled herself off, trying at least to climb back into bed, but her limbs felt like jelly. She fell back to the floor, and curled into a fetal position, shaking.

By the time someone arrived, she was half-conscious. The voices randomly grew louder and softer, but in neither case was she able to understand the words. She did, for a moment, but then the meanings would slip through her fingers, leaving her with nothing more than a few garbled syllables. Opening her eyes, she could make out no faces, only swaying silhouettes.

Ven’s touch was like fire. When his hand pressed against her forehead, she leaned into it, savouring the heat. Someone lifted her up and set her back on the bed, pushing the covers up to her chin. Her teeth chattered.

Ven sat on the bed with her; she knew it was him because of his hair. She curled towards him, again attracted to the warmth, but also the light in his heart. She could see it in her mind, a pinprick of white. She focused on that, being her last thought before the hand stroking her hair lulled her to sleep.

* * *

“She’s so warm,” Ven said nervously, “why does she keep shivering?”

As if she had heard him, Aqua shuddered. Ven bit his lip and worked his fingers through her hair, trying to will her into stopping. On the other side of the bed, Naminé watched them.

“It’s the darkness,” Naminé whispered. “It’s hurting her.”

Ven looked around helplessly. He couldn’t see any darkness and even though his heart had as much light as Aqua’s, he had never been able to sense it as adeptly as she could.

“How do I make it stop?” he asked.

“I’m not sure you can,” Naminé told him. “When her keyblade broke, it damaged her heart. She’s having trouble fighting off the darkness.”

“Fighting _off_?” he repeated, horrified at the implications. Aqua’s upper body jolted, and the pained gasps that followed afterwards sounded so very much like sobs. His insides twisted; he couldn’t stand sitting around doing nothing while she was in such pain.

“There has to be something we can do!” he snapped. Naminé flinched at his tone, and he softened it. “Please.”

“I may be able to do the same thing I did for Terra,” Naminé said. Her hand reached over to Aqua and plunged into her pocket, taking out the blue Wayfinder. Upon seeing what Naminé was holding, Ven’s first instinct was to lunge and take it away from her, but he held himself back. “I can take the light in her heart to make her Wayfinder a guard against the darkness, but it won’t work completely. Her heart’s already too damaged.”

“But there has to be a way to fix it!”

Naminé hesitated. “Aglaophotis,” she said finally. “It drives away the darkness.”

“Okay, great!” Ven grinned. “Where is it?”

She closed her eyes. “In Ridgeview Clinic.”

No. He heard that wrong.

_Please, anywhere but there!_ he begged. He stared at Naminé, mouth open, waiting for her to realize her mistake.

But the sympathetic look she gave him told him there was none.

He leaned back against the headboard, butterflies fluttering in his stomach. He could almost hear the knife dragging across the ground. He had sworn that he would never go back to that place, but this was one of his _friends_. He had to. He couldn’t afford to be selfish now.

Naminé pulled down the sleeve on Aqua’s arm, exposing the angry bruise. It was completely black now, with the red inflammation having faded. But. . . it had changed. Where once it was a normal bruise, this looked more like a tattoo. The blackness had migrated into a border, leaving the inside empty. The bottom was a rounded point; the sides curved out and then inwards to form the rough outline of a heart. It looked familiar, and Ven’s heart stopped as he realized why.

“Naminé, don’t a lot of the monsters have that symbol on them?”

Her silence was enough of an answer.

That was it: he couldn’t wait any longer. “I’ll be back soon,” he promised, getting off the bed, “you fix her Wayfinder.”

She copied him. “Wait! Where are you going?”

“To Ridgeview,” he said dully, “isn’t that where you told me to go?”

“Yes,” she said, “but I didn’t think you would actually do it.”

He reeled back as if she had punched him. Of course he was going to go! It was insulting that she would think otherwise.

He was out the door before he could hear Naminé calling for him.

* * *

So, he was back here. Okay, that was no problem. All he had to do was go in, grab this aglaophotis stuff, and he was home-free. Now, if only he could get his legs to move.

Ven stood on the road leading to the doors of Ridgeview Clinic. Ahead of him, an empty can was blown down the path. The building looked normal, exactly the same as it did before it had morphed that one time. The thick fog shrouded it, hiding the upper floor from view, but the clinic’s image was permanently burned into his mind. He knew exactly what lay beneath the fog.

Snow cracked under his feet. Flakes glimmered as they fell around him, covering up the trail he had left. Ven gulped; if he failed . . . no, he wouldn’t think about that.

His fingers wrapped around the doorknob, but when he tried to open the door, his muscles seized up with panic. He sighed, watching the rising cloud of hot air that escaped him. The metal was so cold that it burned when he placed his forehead against it. _Okay, you have to do this_ , he told himself. No matter what monsters laid inside, he had to enter. Aqua was counting on him.

_Besides, I survived once; I can do it again._

With that, the doors opened.

Light spilled into the interior. Staring, Ven realized that while the outside looked the same, the inside did not. The wooden floors had been torn up, laying in piles of splinters and exposing the sandy ground beneath. A single light, tethered to the ceiling, swung back and forth, and the shadows swayed with it. The entire scene had a rougher, more primitive feel to it, as if he had gone back in time.

The ground was surprisingly warm. He expected cool, dry dirt, but instead it felt like the sun had been shining down on it all day. But he did get dry; the air seemed to steal the moisture from his skin. Smacking his lips, he stepped forwards, and the doors behind him shut.

Was it locked? He fumbled for the knob, sighing in relief when it turned. Only after did he remember that he had a giant key for a weapon. Yes, not one of his finer moments.

Last time, he had been cocky, foolish and unaware of the horrors lurking inside this place. Now he was wiser and instead of charging straight in, he raided the reception desk instead. What were the chances that a random paper would detail the location of the medicine? Not very high, he suspected, but still worth a try.

While shuffling through the papers, a scrap slipped out. It floated down to the desk, landing type-side up. In smudged black letters, too thick even for ink, it read, _She may not deserve this, but do you_? It didn’t make any sense, so he tossed it aside.

Surprise, there was nothing about aglaophotis, so he studied a map framed on the wall instead. Mostly, it just had room numbers and stuff, nothing he was interested in. There had to be a better one somewhere.

He returned to the reception desk, throwing the drawers on the ground until he found what he was looking for. According to this map, there was a storage room. Not a bad place to try first.

The room was down the hall, less than a minute’s run to the exit. Still, Ven hugged the walls, peeking around every corner before he dared to continue. However, the monsters appeared to be sleeping today. He didn’t even see a heartless.

The storeroom was nearly bare. A couple of open-top, cardboard boxes still lay on the shelves, each one boasting battered samples of medical objects. None of them was aglaophotis, or medicine of any kind. He was about to leave when he bumped against one of the boxes and pushed it back, revealing the corner of a paper underneath. The paper was lined, with curly handwriting, and Ven plucked it from its prison beneath the box.

_The dude’s useless_ , it read. _He was always too much of a coward to join us, and I think the last session broke his sanity into itty-bitty pieces. It was hilarious. Anyways, the Superior says the Big Boss can’t make any more monsters from his heart, so looks like we’re setting him loose. Xally thinks we might see him around town before he bites it. I say the dude will get killed the second he steps outside._

The paper slipped from his fingers. What was this? He glanced inside the box, at a scalpel innocently sitting there that suddenly seemed so sinister. For a moment, when he turned, he thought he saw blood on the walls.

The windows rattled. His shadow crisscrossed them as he walked down the hall, his usual exhilaration absent. The light lit him up from above, so that his hair practically glowed even as his lower body was cast in shadow. In the distance, he could hear the ticking of a clock.

He was about to renter the reception room when the door to the room slammed shut. He blinked. He could have sworn that it had just been an empty doorway before. Not terribly concerned, he grabbed the doorknob and twisted, starting to open the door.

Behind him, someone chuckled.

“Wrong way, Ventus,” Vanitas said, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed.

Ven snarled. This guy again? How many times was he going to bother him?

“You don’t even know what I’m looking for,” Ven said warily. With narrowed eyes, he pressed his back against the wall and his gaze flickered from one corner to the next. As he had learned, when Vanitas appeared, bad things tended to follow.

“No? So, it isn’t this?”

Vanitas uncrossed his arms and held up a vial filled with red liquid. A stopper prevented the fluid from spilling as he sloshed it back and forth, snickering as he did so.

“What is that?” Ven asked, dreading the answer.

“Aglaophotis.” Vanitas shrugged and said, “It’s no use to me.”

With that, he let it drop.

The vial seemed to fall in slow motion. Ven dove, reaching. He was fast, but the vial was so far. He could see it getting closer to the ground, could imagine it breaking into a million pieces.

The air was forced out of him as he landed hard on his stomach. He didn’t catch it, but there was no spill either. Above him, Vanitas laughed, spinning the vial between two fingers. He must have swooped down at the last moment and saved it.

“Clumsy and pathetic,” he said, “Eraqus has really lowered his standards.”

The jab didn’t hurt. Ven simply didn’t have time to be insulted. “What do you want?” he asked pointedly, his gaze fixed firmly on the vial.

Vanitas couldn’t have failed to notice where Ven’s attention laid. He held the vial up to the light, mockingly examining it. Ven could picture his sneer when he asked, “How’s Aqua?”

Ven stiffened, certain that the masked boy had something to do with her condition. “I’m not telling you!” he spat. “It’s none of your business.”

“Hmph.” Vanitas’ voice dropped suddenly, becoming more dangerous. “It’s as much of my business as it is yours.”

There was something more to those words, and the hair on his nape stood on end. He made a show of summoning his keyblade, hoping at least to strike some worry into the other boy’s heart. But Vanitas snickered, not even bothering to arm himself. Instead, he beckoned Ven to go ahead and attack. Ven didn’t, of course. He was many things, but he wasn’t stupid.

“Whatever,” Ven said. “Look, I really need that stuff. Can I have it?” He tried to downplay its importance, hoping that Vanitas didn’t know it was the cure to whatever sickness plagued Aqua.

“No,” Vanitas said, to no real surprise. “I don’t think you can.”

Ven struggled to keep his voice even. “Why?”

“Because I don’t feel like giving it to you.”

He took a deep breath and counted to five. “What do you want?”

There was no emotion in Vanitas’ voice when he said, “I want to see you suffer.”

Ven lunged, and Vanitas jumped back, landing lightly on his feet like a cat. “If you want it so bad,” he said, “follow me.”

The masked boy walked backwards, and a door behind him opened all on its own. For a moment, they stood there staring at each other. Then Vanitas disappeared into the room beyond the door, and gathering his courage, Ven followed.

How had he missed this room before? It was huge! Whereas most of Ridgeview Clinic was dark and depressing, this room featured a skylight that allowed the sunlight to come through. Too much sunlight, in fact. It felt like he was outside.

The ground was warm and grainy, made of sand instead of snow. In the center of the room was a stone pillar, atop of which Vanitas perched. A beam of light fell around him, bouncing off his helmet. Hunched like a vulture, he stroked the vial with his thumb before setting it down beside him.

“You want it?” he shouted. “Come and get it!”

The black and red keyblade appeared in Vanitas’ hand. Ven ran out of the way as Vanitas leapt, and the keyblade impaled the place where Ven had been standing a moment before. Ven whipped around, Wayward Wind held behind him, and stumbled back as Vanitas charged. The other boy was fast, aggressive and, Ven found, had a natural talent for invading other people’s personal space.

Vanitas laughed. “I’m not even trying!” he cried, charging up a black ball in his palm. He flung it at Ven, who leapt up and out of the way. He landed low, and Vanitas skated towards him on a wave of darkness. Their keyblades met, the air between them hissed, and then Vanitas was past him and curving around for another strike.

Ven dug his feet in. He could feel the air electrifying as Vanitas neared. When their keyblades met, sparks jumped between them, blinding them with an orange light. Vanitas rolled off the wave, but it continued to move, curling back and threatening to drown Ven. Ven cast Reflect, and the darkness crashed against the barrier, which was beginning to crack as the pressure built.

Vanitas broke it with one well-placed swing. Though the magic slowed the keyblade’s speed, it still hurt when it slammed into Ven’s ribs. He grimaced, brought Wayward Wind up in his reverse grip, only for Vanitas to grab the shaft. The keyblade flared, and Vanitas let go, but not before smacking Ven with the pommel of his dark keyblade.

A salty taste invaded the back of his mouth. Before blood trickled out of his nose, he cast Cura to mend the cartilage. Vanitas waited a step away, using his keyblade as a third leg as he leaned backwards.

“Giving up already?” he sneered.

Ven glared at him, trying to communicate his hate. Vanitas laughed.

His nose still tender, Ven gazed upwards at the top of the pillar. If he could get up there, he could run away and leave this fight to a time when things weren’t so drastic. Of course, Vanitas must have known that Ven was thinking that. The masked boy was inching backwards, his keyblade rippling with a dark flame.

When he swung, it escaped in a whip-like fashion. The flames singed Ven’s chest, leaving a black trail. He bit his lip in pain, and dashed to the side when the dark keyblade followed.

There was an opening. Ven ran for it, rolling underneath Vanitas’ keyblade. He grabbed onto part of the pillar’s protruding rock, climbing his way up.

Halfway there, the stone next to him exploded. His grip slipped. Hanging from just one hand, Ven had just enough of an angle to see Vanitas preparing for another blow. The fireball took form, shot through the sky towards him. Taking a deep breath, Ven summoned his keyblade and aimed.

It did not reflect back at Vanitas as he had hoped. Instead, the fireball broke apart, burning the rock on either side of him. Vanitas strolled towards the pillar, arms crossed behind his head as he watched Ven struggle to regain his foothold.

“It’s hopeless,” Vanitas said. “You’ll never do it like that.”

Ven blinked. He was right. He was too open when he climbed, too vulnerable. He may as well go ahead and hold up a blinking sign that said, _Hi, kill me please!_ Ven found a handhold for his loose hand, turning his back to Vanitas in hopes of tricking the boy into thinking that he intended to ignore him. He knew it worked when Vanitas snorted.

The hairs on the back of his neck rose when Vanitas threw another dark fireball at him. Closing his eyes, he waited for that moment of forbearing, right before the attack would be true. Then, he felt it and with unmatched speed, he propelled himself up and over, landing behind the shocked Vanitas. His armour was fully formed by the time he hit the ground, and this time, he made the first move.

He slashed at Vanitas’ unarmed back. The bodysuit did not tear, but he felt the flesh underneath give way. Vanitas staggered forwards, furiously spinning around, keyblade held out in front. It grated against the shaft of Ven’s keyblade, wailing as it dragged across. They locked blades again, disengaged, and circled each other.

“Neat trick,” Vanitas spat. “Got any more?”

“How about this?” Ven pointed his keyblade down and cast Aero.

The spell propelled him into the sky, high above Vanitas. At the top of his arc, he twisted and glided towards the pillar, a rare smirk crossing his face as he observed the grounded Vanitas.

Vanitas disappeared.

And reappeared on top the pillar.

He grabbed Ven’s helmet like he was a raging bull, and redirected him into the pillar. He tried to stand, but Vanitas’ knee pressed against his neck. With his armour, he couldn’t feel the bone, only the pressure.

“So close,” Vanitas said, “and yet . . .”

Vanitas grabbed him under the armpit, lifted Ven high enough so that his chest was off the ground, and then carelessly tossed him off the pillar.

“ . . . you’re not even close.”

A spray of sand splashed up around him as he crashed. Ven pushed himself up to his knees. Vanitas landed close to him, the tip of his keyblade dragging on the ground. He didn’t even bother to use it, instead kicking Ven over onto his back.

Vanitas held him down with a foot on his neck. With a single, fluid motion, he grabbed Ven’s helmet by the chin, and yanked it off. The helmet was cast aside, rolling to a stop against the base of the pillar.

“You’re weak,” Vanitas said, “pathetic, worthless!” He punctuated each word by stomping on Ven’s throat. “You should be thankful for what happens next.”

Vanitas slammed a hand down on Ven’s shoulder, dismissing his armour. That hand then migrated to Ven’s chest, settling right over his heart, and something within him responded. It felt like he was being stretched, torn apart.

His heart burned. It was like someone had plunged a red-hot knife into his chest, and was carving it out. The strings holding his heart in place begin to fray, snapping one by one. With each snap, a new wave of pain ran through him. He jerked violently; his eyes rolled up into his head. His ribs were being pulled apart, and something cold and much too big to fit forced its way into the void.

He screamed.

_Someone help me!_ In his mind, he cried for his friends.

Vanitas laughed wildly, his helmet hovering an inch away from Ven’s nose.

Ven swallowed. He would only have one chance.

Wayward Wind came, and he drove it right into the center of Vanitas’ helmet.

Vanitas howled in pain, and Ven kicked him off. Though his heart was still sore, the vast majority of the pain immediately went away. He stumbled forwards, glassy eyes struggling to focus on the pillar and his prize.

“Ven, wait!”

It was a female’s voice, but in his dazed state, Ven was unable to connect it to a face. He turned around, and then saw Xion at the door, waving at him. In her hand, she held the red vial.

Vanitas snarled. Ven ignored him, and raced for the exit. Behind him, Vanitas aimed, charging up his shot-lock. The beam escaped him, tearing through the very molecules in the air as it carved a path towards Ven. Ven grit his teeth, pumped his legs harder, and _reached_.

He slammed the door shut just in time.

“Xion,” he breathed.

She didn’t answer him, and held up an empty vial to a cut he hadn’t noticed. Blood dripped into the glass container, filling it.

“Take this,” she said, “pretend it’s the aglaophotis. I’ll meet you at Brookhaven.”

“How can I be sure I’ll find it?”

“You will,” she said. She placed a small hand on his chest. “Your heart will guide you.”

He nodded.

Xion leapt out a broken window, and Ven raced down the hall, filled with renewed energy. The door exploded behind him as Vanitas emerged.

Ven exhaled. The chase was on.


	18. Chapter 18

A bloody trail marked where he had walked. It was suspect, because Terra was pretty sure there was no blood on him.

Terra wiped a finger across the bottom of his shoes. When it came back muddy but free of blood, he sighed and continued onwards, attributing the phenomenon to one of this world’s oh-so-amusing tricks. Would it kill this force to think up something that wasn’t so obvious?

He held the Wayfinder in one hand, hoping to feel its pull. Instead, his heart fluttered like a caged bird, bashing against his ribs in an effort to escape. He had a feeling that some property of this prison blocked its power; it only fit the theme, after all.

The scent of an ocean breeze met his nose. Cautiously, Terra peeked around the next corner. Yep, there was a nurse walking (staggering? He didn’t know what to call that twitchy movement) down the corridor, a rusty knife in one hand. Impatiently, he waited for it to pass into another junction, and then stepped into the corridor himself. The nurses, he found, like heartless, were attracted to his keyblade. As long as he kept it hidden and didn’t wander into their vision, he could generally avoid them.

The corridor stretched out long before him, and although he walked for a long time, he never reached the end. Oddly though, when he turned around, it took him less than ten seconds to return from where he had come. Clearly, he wasn’t meant to go that way.

He backtracked, finding a junction and taking a new path. As he did, he marked the wall with a Fire spell. He was going to get out of here even if he had to explore every passage.

This time, he entered a cafeteria. Long tables, two rows of five in total, were there. In the wells where food once sat, only dust lay now. However, he noticed that a couple of the wells were filled with red, dripping chunks that Terra did his best to avoid looking at.

He glanced back at the tables, and then nearly gave himself whiplash as his head swivelled around to stare at a place he had sworn was empty. Someone sat there, a white hood concealing the upper half of his face as he brought a steaming cup of tea to his lips. Like Xaldin and Xemnas, this man wore a cloak that fell to his ankles, but opposite in colour. The stark white was blinding compared to the dreary surroundings around them. Terra was suddenly hesitant to approach, feeling that the grime coating him would somehow taint this man.

But he approached anyways. The man paid him no mind, sipping from his teacup. Terra stood awkwardly for a few moments, then slid onto the bench across the table from the man. The man paused, and then continued to drink.

“What are you doing here?” Terra said bluntly, too stunned to remember his manners.

In the silence that followed, Terra realized how unfriendly that sounded. Sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, he offered the stranger an apologetic smile.

“My name is Terra,” he said. He extended his hand for a handshake, noticed the mud crammed into his skin’s lines, and withdrew it. Wow, he was not making a good first impression. “I’m trying to find my way out of here. Could you help me?”

The man sipped.

“This is an odd place, isn’t it?” Terra said, disliking the quiet. His words echoed through the wide room, loud and filled with notes of unease. “You’re the first person I’ve seen. What are you doing here, anyways?”

“Watching.”

Terra blinked, trying to make sense of the answer. The man set down his empty cup, and slowly rose to his feet.

“Wait!” Terra cried, standing as well. “Tell me how to get out of here.”

Instead of doing that, the man asked his own question. “Do you deserve to?”

“What? What kind of question is that?” he snapped. There was an air of superiority around the man, as if Terra’s outburst had just proven his point.

“Look,” Terra said, forcing himself to be calm, “my friends are out there. They _need_ me.”

“A heart like yours, do they really need that?” the man said. “Torn between the dark and the light, how long until the indecision drives one insane?”

“I know which one I want,” Terra said firmly. “Now tell me how to get out of here.”

The man raised a crooked finger. “If you must, go that way.”

Terra’s smile probably looked like a dog’s snarl. Keeping his rage in check, he turned away and stiffly headed towards the indicated exit.

“Terra.” Terra stopped. “You say that you have already chosen, but are you sure it is the correct choice?”

Terra ignored him and yanked the door open.

The door did not lead outside, but at this point, Terra didn’t expect anything else. It swung shut behind him when he stepped into the hall, but that was normal too, and he still had the means to escape if he wanted to.

Iron bars slammed down.

Oh. He didn’t have a plan for that.

_Clink_.

He froze at the familiar sound. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the soldiers. They were lined up on either side of the hallway, bladed arms rigid at their sides. They were still, like a procession preparing to march. When Terra waved his hands, they did not react. They remained where they were, waiting for something.

Or someone.

A bang on the door startled him into moving. He accidently stepped between two soldiers, then jumped back and summoned Earthshaker in anticipation of an attack. But the soldiers did not move.

Sweat rolled down the side of his head. He would have liked it better if they just sprung. Instead, he was forced to tiptoe between the ranks, his breath hitching every time he thought they stirred.

When he was in the center of the hall, they did move. Stomping with their left foot, their arms bent up at the elbow and stayed there, like knights holding swords at the ready. Terra had frozen while this was happening, and part of his mind wondered if he should go ahead and make the first move.

He released a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. No, not yet. Not until he was closer to the end.

The dread grew with each step. He was standing at an angle, trying to see everywhere at once. His arms shook with tension, the muscles clenched so hard they began to hurt. He had to remind himself just to breathe, and the breaths he took seemed small and muggy.

He made it down all the way to the end, and they still hadn’t moved. However, when he grasped the doorknob, that’s when they stirred. Pivoting around, they flung at him. Terra glanced over his shoulder, his eyes widened, and he nearly tore the door off its hinges. Desperately, he shut it behind him.

The blades stabbed through the wood, so that bits rained down onto the ground and there were holes everywhere. But although they were clearly capable of breaking it down, they did not. The blades went away, and did not come back. Peeking through one of the holes, Terra saw that the soldiers had returned to their original positions.

He was in another wide room. It was not just a room, he realized, but a courtroom. The gallery was empty, with thick cobwebs extending between the benches. Dividing the would-be audience from the trial were iron bars, much like the ones that had locked him in the hallway. There was one passage through the bars to the other side, and that was in the center through what appeared to be a glass tunnel. He felt the edges of the opening on his side, finding that the tunnel had no doors. Odd, but maybe they had been removed right before this place was abandoned.

Eyeing a door beside what used to be the judge’s seat, he walked into the tunnel. It was quite surreal; through the glass, everything was warped. The walls and ceiling met at an obtuse angle; the judge’s stand seemed to extend forward and touch the glass. They snapped back to their normal places when he approached the end of the tunnel, and he backed up a step just so he could experience the oddity again. It really was quite cool, and he bet that Ven would have loved it. But there was no way that he would ever allow his younger friend to set foot inside this place.

As amusing as this was, there were still his friends to rescue. He moved forwards again, intending to exit.

Instead, he walked straight into a wall of glass.

Baffled, he felt around for the exit, slamming his fists on the wall when it failed to show. _Okay_ , he thought to himself, _so there’s no door on this side; I’ll just have to go back and find another way_.

He turned around and headed back towards the gallery, but that way was blocked too. His blood ran cold. He _knew_ there wasn’t glass here before. Panicking, he lifted Earthshaker and drove it into the glass. All he managed to do was give himself a nasty shock as the force rebounded.

He was trapped, like an animal in a cage.

A gavel banged.

Suddenly, the room was lit, and he could feel the lights on him, the intensity amplified by the glass. Through the tunnel’s warped picture, he could make out a blond-haired person sitting at the judge’s stand, a black robe around his shoulders.

“Order in the court!” the person, evidently male, shouted. His voice was young and enthusiastic, nothing at all what Terra expected a judge to sound like.

Terra glanced around. There was no one else here, and he hadn’t been making a fuss, so he wasn’t sure what the judge was talking about.

“Terra the keyblader?”

He blinked. “Yes?”

“Oh, so that is you,” the judge said happily. “It was hard to tell through the glass.”

“Err, likewise,” Terra said. “Look, could you –”

“Guilty!” The gavel slammed down.

“What? Guilty of what?” Terra demanded.

“I don’t know,” the judge said, “whatever the crime is.”

The judge leaned back, stretched, and his arms seemed to wobble like a disturbed reflection. The part of his grin that Terra could see eerily reminded him of the Cheshire Cat – not a figure he would ever want on the bench if he was on trial.

Terra banged against the glass. “You can’t put me away if nothing’s happened! And even if something did, you don’t have any proof it was me.”

The judge tsked, waving a finger. “But we _do_ have proof, Terra, all the proof we need!” He banged his gavel again, in a rhythmic fashion that, had this not been a serious situation, Terra could tap his feet to. “Yeah, feeling the beat!”

“Proof, what kind of proof? Hey!” Terra knocked on the glass. “I’m talking to you.”

He marched up the tunnel to where he could see the judge properly. What he found was a young blond rocking his head to his made- up music, completely disregarding the person locked up before him.

Terra drove Earthshaker into the glass.

“Wah!” The judge fell backwards, his black robes floating behind him. One hand appeared, groping around the edge of the stand for a grip, then the other. Cautiously, the judge peered over the stand at the irate Terra, shrinking back at the heat of his glare. “Come on,” the judge said, “don’t be mad.”

“Tell me about this proof!”

“Okay, fine. No need to be rude.” The judge pulled out a piece of paper from his robes, nodding to himself as he scanned it. “Okay, here it is: studies indicate that subject A – that’s you,” the judge pointed at Terra, “has a large amount of darkness in his heart.”

Terra waited for the rest. Instead, the judge crumpled the paper into a ball and threw it over his shoulder.

“And there you have it!” the judge announced.

“What kind of proof is that?”

The judge beamed. “The best.”

Terra growled, pressing his forehead against the wall of his prison. He always knew his darkness would come back to bite him, but he never expected it to be in a courtroom with an absolute idiot!

“That’s no proof,” Terra said, “it doesn’t show that I’ve actually done anything wrong.”

“Objection!”

Silence rang through the room.

“Oh, yeah, oops.” The judge blushed. “I forgot I was the judge and not the prosecutor. Anyways,” he said loudly, “no good can come from darkness, so it must prove you’ve done something wrong.”

Terra flinched at the familiar words. “Look, I’m telling you I haven’t done anything!”

“Maybe you haven’t, but you will.” The judge waggled his finger. “Darkness always leads to evil.”

Settling back in his chair, the judge remarked, “Boy, all this justice is a lot of work.” From out of nowhere, he pulled out a stringed instrument and began to play.

“Any requests?” he asked.         

“Let me out,” Terra said flatly.

“Sorry, no can do!” There was a creak as a door opened. “Oh goody, here’s our witness!”

Terra groaned, turning to see what kind of person this stupid judge had . . .

No. No, it couldn’t be. He was _dead_ , Terra watched him die!

But standing in the doorway was Officer Fair.

_“You got him, Fair?”_

_“Yeah, he’s holed up under here. Hey, just relax, kid. We don’t want to hurt you; we’re the good guys!”_

Terra massaged his head, gasping for breath as the memory replayed itself. Officer Fair walked up to the witness box, looking like a child lost in a big store. His expression was carefully wiped blank when he met Terra’s eyes, and without a word, he took a seat.

“Now, Zack Fair, is it?” Officer Fair nodded. “Great,” the judge grinned, “now in your own words, tell us what happened the day you died.”

The witness shrugged. “I was on duty with my partner, patrolling the streets, when we saw a young boy . . .”

_“Stop! Who’s there?”_

The story had just begun, and already Terra wanted to cry.

Although it was a horrible disservice to the person he already killed, Terra couldn’t bring himself to listen. Every word was a knife driven into his heart and sooner or later, it would hit something vital. So he sat hunched in a corner, hands clamped over his ears. But that didn’t stop the memories from rewinding, nor did it stop the tears. They fell down his face freely, unchecked, unnoticed.

“Alright, does the defendant have anything to say for himself?”

_The hand swooped down and he reacted –_

Terra did not, and even if he did, it was doubtful he could get the words past the tears.

“In that case, double-guilty!” The gavel slammed down, marking the delivery of the verdict. The judge was beaming, but Officer Fair did not seem happy. He didn’t look like he was feeling anything.

“What happens now?” Terra rasped.

“Let me check . . . shoot!” The judge dove behind his stand, where he soon remerged with the paper he had previously crumpled into a ball. “Let’s see, imprisonment for the rest of your life. That seems fair, doesn’t it?” The judge laughed. “You’re lucky, you know that? If it were up to me, I would let the Bogeyman have you. No good ever comes from darkness.”

Then the judge’s smile faded. “But,” he leaned forwards, “it wasn’t the darkness that did this, was it?”

Terra bowed his head. Eraqus always told him it was, but he had also told Terra that it was okay, that he could redeem himself. Now, he didn’t know anything. Maybe this sentence was for the best.

_Aqua . . . Ven . . . Master . . . I’m sorry_.

He frowned. What about his friends? How would they get out of here without him?

“Great, that’s finished!” The judge clapped his hands together. To Officer Fair, he offhandedly said, “I think Ventus is next.”

Terra’s head snapped up. “What about Ven?”

“He’s next!”

“For what? There’s no darkness in his heart!” His voice was raw with panic.

“Wow, Terra, I didn’t know you were so interested in the law!” The judge fumbled in his robes, before pulling out another piece of paper. “Okay, let’s see . . . Oh, he’s guilty, too!”

Terra stared in horror, and the judge continued, “And I actually get to hand him over to the Bogeyman! Man, it feels like forever since I’ve been able to do that.”

“NO!” Terra punched the wall, wanting nothing more than to see it crack. “You can’t do that; he’s just a kid!”

“A juvenile delinquent! Seriously, Terra, get with the program.”

His nails dug into his palm. Terra could hardly breathe, so consumed he was with rage. Earthshaker began to glow with a dark light, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Touch him,” he snarled, “and you _die_!”

“Threatening a figure of authority? Terra, you are not making a good name for yourself.” The judge leaned back completely, his feet going on the stand. “I see where Ventus gets it from. Hmm, Ventus. . .” He stroked his chin. “I think I’ll just call him Ven –”

“ _You will not!_ ”

The roar left him in a giant gust, leaving him empty of breath afterwards. The nails had come away from his palms and clawed at the glass instead, leaving shallow marks behind.

“Sorry, Terra, but it’s my job. Seriously though, calm down.” The judge gestured with his hands as he said that, as if it would actually have an effect. “It’s not that big a deal; one swing and –”

All of Terra’s rage, all of his fear and desperation, exploded out of him. Darkness crashed into the glass. For a second, it held, but then it shattered completely, and a hail of razor-sharp shards flew through the air. The judge squawked and dove behind his seat, cowering. Officer Fair didn’t move.

Like a dragon emerging from its cave, Terra stepped through the dark mist and into the open. Arcs of black sparks ran up and down his arms, and his blue eyes were filled with shadows. The power came to him freely, responding to his unspoken whims, and swirled around him in a vortex.

“Madman on the loose!” the judge yelped. He took off through the door by which Officer Fair had entered, shouting, “Run, run away!”

The door shut, and it was only him and Officer Fair.

“You didn’t look like that when I died,” the dead man remarked.

Terra said nothing.

“I don’t think they’re actually going to bring your friend here, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Why not?” Terra growled. “Everything else in this town is trying to kill him.”

He turned away from Officer Fair, focusing on the glass tunnel. It was hard to protect Ven when he had no idea where he was, but he could at least make sure he wasn’t trapped like Terra had been.

He snapped his fingers, and tendrils of darkness beat at the glass. Everywhere it touched cracked. Terra watched, but that wasn’t enough to soothe the storm inside him. Ordering the darkness to withdraw, he started to tear it apart himself, ignoring the sting as the edges sliced through his skin. Unbelievably, Officer Fair joined him, and together, they dismantled the tunnel and crushed it into tiny pieces.

At the end, they were both covered in sweat. They stared at each other, unspoken thoughts flying between them. There was some sort of camaraderie between them now, unmarred by their bloody past.

“I was going to stay behind,” Officer Fair said, “for Ventus. What’s going on here, it isn’t right. I know I should have done something to free you, too, but you were the guy that killed me, and I was really confused . . .”

“Don’t be sorry,” Terra said, “I think I may have deserved it.”

“No,” Officer Fair shook his head. “I’ve learned to live and forgive, Terra. Well,” he grinned, “I guess in my case it’s haunt and forgive. But you need to forgive yourself too.”

“Are you a ghost?”

“No.” He smiled sadly. “More like a memory. But I don’t know what he was thinking when he brought me back. I wasn’t a vengeful monster when I was alive; I’m not going to start being one now.” He laughed. “You think he would have learned after his mistake with Naminé.”

Terra blinked, and Officer Fair laughed some more and patted him on the back. “I know, it’s hard for an outsider to wrap his brain around. But stop worrying about it and go find your friends. Whatever the town has planned for them, it isn’t pretty.”

Terra nodded. “Thank you.”

He turned to leave. At the door, he paused, and then turned around. “Officer Fair,” he began.

“Hey, just call me Zack!”

“Zack.” His lips formed the word, enjoying the simplicity. “What did you see when you died, if it wasn’t the darkness?”

“Well, like I said, when you pulled that weapon out, it wasn’t darkness I saw. Actually, it looked like a lot of light.”


	19. Chapter 19

Ven flew down the streets, wind rushing through his hair. He didn’t know where he was going; he didn’t particularly care where he was going. It didn’t matter. His job was to distract Vanitas and keep him away from Xion for as long as possible.

And that was something he was really good at.

He turned on a dime, zipping around a corner. Above, darkness flared as Vanitas teleported from one building to the next. He wasn’t as fast as Ven, so that was the only way the masked boy was able to keep up. It suited Ven perfectly though, because the delay made it easier to evade him.

Vanitas whipped a ball of darkness at him and Ven spun out of the way. Now, with an entire town as a battleground and nothing at stake, he was actually having a bit of fun. He stuck his tongue out at Vanitas and swore that he heard the other growl.

Monsters staggered out of the fog. They were lying figures, the same thing that had attacked him and Xion during their first visit to Ridgeview Clinic. Wary of the acid they spewed, Ven quickly cast Reflect between them. He backed up with his weight on the balls of his feet, scanning the horde for a way out.

Meanwhile, Vanitas charged up his next attack.

The closest lying figures suddenly flopped over at the waist, the flesh on their backs squirming as they got ready to release their acid. Ven flicked his keyblade back, then forwards in an Aeroga spell, reflecting the acid back at its users. Sizzling bubbles sizzled on their skin, and he rushed forwards, swinging his keyblade.

When Vanitas’ attack came, Ven became a blur that dove out of the way. The dark energy instead knocked over the monsters like a bowling ball knocking over pins. As the monsters struggled to recover, they were easy for Ven to dispatch.

Those precious seconds gave Vanitas enough time to jump down and attack. He thrust at Ven’s exposed back, the latter barely dodging. Wayward Wind glimmered with light, contrasting with the hue of Vanitas’ keyblade. Light and darkness clashed as they fought each other, trying to wear the other down.

Vanitas slipped under his guard, and shot a fireball right at his gut. There wasn’t time for Ven to think before the heat licked at his torso. Again? He hadn’t even really healed it the first time!

Ven disengaged with a grunt, biting his lip in pain. Vanitas advanced, stalking towards him like a wolf closing in its downed prey. Quick as a flash, his hand shot out and grabbed Ven’s throat. With each second that passed, he squeezed harder. Ven brought Wayward Wind up, but Vanitas blocked it, using his keyblade to pin it to the ground.

He brought Ven’s face close to his.

 “Nice try,” he said, “but you’re way out of your league.”

Ven clenched his jaw, refusing to say anything.

 “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” Vanitas shook him, cocking his head to one side like a curious child. “Spit it out, Ventus. I’m _dying_ to hear what you have to say.”

 “Go away,” Ven mumbled.

 “Go away?” Vanitas’ high-pitched laughter rang through his mind. “But we’re having so much _fun_.”

The hand around his throat tightened ruthlessly, cutting off his air supply. Though Ven clawed at the grip, it didn’t weakened. Black spot danced in front of his eyes, and a haze settled over his mind.

The grip slackened. He swallowed down greedy mouthfuls of air, tears of fear and anger in his eyes.

 “You’re weak,” Vanitas murmured, “I can’t believe I need a loser like you.”

There was a moment that Ven’s feet flailed in thin air as Vanitas lifted him. With a harsh laugh, the masked boy tossed him aside, taking his sweet time to approach.

“I don’t think I’ll kill you just yet,” Vanitas said. “I’ll have some fun with you first. Tell me, Ventus,” Vanitas sunk to one knee, and Ven could see his own face reflected in the domed mask, “how much pain does it take to make you scream?”

Ven said nothing.

The tip of Vanitas’ keyblade traced the bottom of his chin. “We’ll see soon enough,” Vanitas said. In an amused voice, he added, “This might even be enough to get Aqua out of bed.”

He stopped Ven’s punch cold, grabbing the wrist and wrenching it back as if he planned to snap it in two.

“Careful, Ventus, you might want to think about what exactly you’re getting yourself into.”

“Leave them alone,” Ventus said.

“Or else what? Are you going to cry?”

Ven’s face grew red as Vanitas laughed at him. Truthfully, he didn’t know what he would do. He couldn’t win against Vanitas; right now, the dark boy was playing with him, he was sure of it. Had Vanitas really been trying to kill him, he would have sent him to that nightmarish world again or summoned Pyramid Head.

“Let’s make a deal,” Vanitas said. “Hand over that vial, and I’ll reconsider my decision to pay a visit to Terra.”

“You know where Terra is?” Ven asked with suspicion.

Vanitas laughed. “I know _everything_ that goes on here. Now, the vial.”

His hand began to migrate over to Ven’s neck. Shielding it, Ven tucked his chin in and mumbled, “Fine.”

Vanitas was just cocky enough to believe that Ven would ever choose to hand the vial over. Just in case though, Ven pretended to make a run for it, barely getting to his feet before Vanitas pushed him back down. Vanitas’ keyblade pointed at his forehead as the masked boy growled, “Don’t try that again. Now give it to me.”

Ven took the vial from his pocket and dropped it into Vanitas’ waiting hand.

“Good boy.” The red liquid sloshed from one side to the other, and Ven prayed Vanitas wouldn’t notice the difference. “And now . . .”

Vanitas smashed the vial on the ground, and stomped it into dust. A red pool leaked from underneath his boot, steadily spreading outwards. For Ven, it was a bit surreal to see his own blood staining the ground and feel so disconnected from it.

Vanitas patted him on the back. “Hope Aqua gets better,” he sneered.

It was so hard not to smirk. To keep himself calm, Ven focused on how badly Vanitas was falling for his ruse.

A whoosh signalled the closing of Vanitas’ portal. Quickly, Ven scrambled to his feet, automatically brushing his clothes off. He whooped, grinning in excitement; it had actually worked! He had fooled Vanitas, and Xion still had the aglaophotis. Now, he had to find his way back to Brookhaven.

He did so in only a minute. Either, he had unconsciously ran all the way here while fleeing Vanitas, or the dark force controlling the town wanted him to go here. The former didn’t seem right, and the latter didn’t seem to make sense. Why would the town want him to return to Aqua?

_Because it thinks I can’t do anything_ , he realized. Vanitas had mentioned that he wanted to make Ven suffer. What better way to do that than forcing him to watch as one of his best friend slowly grew sicker? Worried that Vanitas might be spying on him, he hid a grin; this time, Vanitas’ incessant need to torment him had worked in his favour.

He opened the doors, stepped into the reception area and like a lizard lying in the sun, basked in the heat. Naminé and Xion were at the mouth of the hallway, not with Aqua as he had expected. Both were speaking feverishly in hushed voices, Xion’s face set in dismay and Naminé’s in fear and anxiety. Blue eyes flickered to him, followed by a pointing finger, and then both girls turned. Neither looked happy to see him.

“Do you still have it?” Ven asked, fearing the worst.

Xion nodded.

He relaxed, the tension rolling off his shoulders. “Okay, have you given it to her yet?”

She shook her head no. “Ven, she’s –”

Cheerfully, not paying attention to her words, he cut her off. “You guys didn’t have to wait for me. Come on, let’s go!”

He ran down the hallway, a streak of blond hair and white and black clothes, not even staying long enough to hear Xion and Naminé yell, “Wait!”

It was unfortunate the door to Aqua’s room was closed. He had thought it was open, just a crack, and planned to burst through it like he did to Terra in the Land of Departure (he stopped doing it to Aqua after she grew annoyed and laid a mine behind her door). But, sadly for him, it was completely closed, and he ran into the door instead. Lying on his back, he rubbed his nose. Good thing Terra hadn’t seen that.

“Oh, Aqua!” he sang, stretching out her name. His grin faded when he saw the empty bed. “Aqua?”

There was no sign of her. The sheets had been strewn on the floor, as if they were thrown off in a hurry. On a nightstand sat a half-empty glass of water and an untouched can of food. Perplexed, he looked around the room, almost expecting Aqua to drop in out of nowhere.

“Why did you move her?” he asked when Xion came up behind him.

“Ven . . .”

The cadence of her tone worried him, and he pried his eyes away from the bed to look at her. Xion refused to meet his eyes, staring at the floor instead. His chest tightened; something was wrong.

“Did she get worse?” he asked.

Xion shook her head and gave him a look so apologetic, so sympathetic, that he started to sweat.

“What’s going on?”

“Ven,” Naminé came up behind him, “I’m so sorry.”

He stared at her blankly, not understanding and not wanting to know.

“I fixed her Wayfinder, and I swore she was asleep.” Naminé wrung her, biting her lip nervously. “I only left for a little while, to get something to eat. But when I came back, she was gone.”

“Gone where?” he asked hoarsely.

Her eyes closed. “Outside.”

No. He ignored them and ran. Though he ran faster than he ever had before, the journey felt endless. Finally, he flung the front doors open, screaming Aqua’s name. A horizon of featureless fog greeted him, mocking him.

The fog swallowed up the hospital as he ran away, and he didn’t care. Aqua was sick and wandering, Terra had abandoned them and fled – he was losing both of his friends, and nothing he did stopped it. The town, the darkness he now despised, was pulling them away from him.

He didn’t know what to do.

He stood alone in the street. Some unconscious part of his mind took over then, guiding his hand into his pocket, where it moulded around the shape of his Wayfinder. The charm seemed to radiate light, warming him with its green glow.

“There’s always a way,” he whispered.

“Ven!”

He didn’t move as Xion screeched to a stop beside him. Panting, hands on her knees, she looked up at him. Focused as he was on the Wayfinder, it took her a few moments to get his attention.

“Xion,” he said softly, “what happens now?”

She bowed her head. “I don’t know,” she admitted.

The two of them stared into the blankness. He felt Xion’s touch on his shoulder and leaned into her, burying his head in her shoulder.

“I just want them to be safe,” he said into her cloak.

She felt Xion stiffen underneath him, but it wasn’t out of fear. There was something else behind that, some firm declaration and the rigidity of a made choice. In contrast to the hardness of her muscles, she gently pushed him away, looking at him fully.

“Take this,” she said, handing him the vial with the real aglaophotis. “Find Aqua and Terra.” She looked away from him. “There’s something I have to do.”

He studied the vial closely. “Xion, wasn’t there more in the vial?”

“I have the rest. It . . . it may come in handy. Oh, Ven, do you have a flashlight?”

He nodded mutely and handed it over. “Xion, what are you going to do?”

She smiled sadly. “Just trust me, Ven. It will be alright.”

“I do trust you,” he protested, “but I don’t want you to get hurt!”

Her smile grew, but it was still watery at the edges. “Ven,” she said, stepping close, “I’m glad I got to meet you.”

Their foreheads touched and Ven went rigid. This entire conversation felt like a goodbye of sorts, and that was something he didn’t want. He didn’t want to leave Xion to die in this town.

But before he could say anything, she was gone, and he was left with nothing but the vial and the rushing wind.

* * *

There was no one home when she entered the church, and even if there had been, they wouldn’t have paid her any mind.

Xion walked up to the altar and stood in the center of the holy building. For all the power their so-called god had, he had done a horrible job of weeding out the traitors in his ranks. She should have been dead hours ago, since the moment she disobeyed his will and told Terra what had happened to Ven. But she was still breathing, still alive. In a sense, of course.

Checking to make sure she was alone, she tiptoed over to the trapdoor. It opened with nary a sound, the darkness beneath it seeming to cluster. She stepped onto the first stair, and slowly, descended into the secret room.

As the stairs grew shorter and escape further away, the first inklings of fear licked at her. She continued on anyways, mouth set in a firm line. She wouldn’t chicken out now. She _would_ go down there, and she _would_ end this. She couldn’t stand by and watch the town claim innocent souls anymore, not when she knew there was another way.

_Ventus_. It made her smile just to think about him. He had been slated to die, yet even knowing that had not been enough to keep her cold towards him. He was just so happy, so energetic, so nice. Not like any of The Order. They were only concerned with what their god wanted.

She couldn’t really blame them; she used to be like that too.

She had been born a slave, a replacement for a puppet. No one had ever told the entire story, but she knew she only existed to replace Naminé. Every creature in this town had a meaning, and long ago, Naminé had been innocence. Somehow, she’d broken away from the town’s grasp and barricaded herself in Brookhaven Hospital. That had been a long time ago. Naminé had never stepped outside since.

With Naminé’s defection, Xion had been created. The darkness had learned from its mistakes, and tethered her to it in a way Naminé had not. That’s what she had thought, at least. Lately, she had heard its whispers less and less, felt the god’s desires grow weak. Ven, Aqua and Terra, they had freed her without meaning to, and for that, she would be forever grateful.

She just wished, more than anything, that she could go with them.

She stepped onto the circular plane of glass. At once, the droning voices started up, speaking of darkness and light. She felt a breeze pass over her as something groped for her heart, examining it.

She was created from darkness, so her heart (if she really had one) had no light.

The room was plunged into darkness.

She steeled herself, knowing what monster made this its lair. It was one of their god’s personal creations, almost as prized as the Bogeyman. Whereas Naminé was innocence and the Bogeyman punishment, this creature was corruption. Too many times had it been used to enslave someone that otherwise wouldn’t have fallen.

She would stop it here.

She and Naminé had known, from the second they saw that mark on Aqua’s arm, exactly why she was so sick. It had been a consequence of her foray down here. Xion closed her eyes; if only she had been there, then she could have warned . . . no, she would have been too afraid. Whether or not Xion had been present, Aqua would have been attacked all the same, and the poison would still run through her veins. She still had her natural light to protect her, her friends and now, the Wayfinder, but Xion still worried; none of that erased the fact that darkness, _his_ darkness, had tainted her.

She heard the monster moving across the glass towards her, searching for its next victim. Slowly, quietly, she took the vial of aglaophotis out of her pocket and gripped it tight. With her other hand, she took out the flashlight.

The beam revealed glowing red eyes.

She could still run. The staircase was right behind her.

Xion swallowed; she wouldn’t. Ven had given her the gift of choice, and she wouldn’t dishonour that now.

“I’m ready,” she said. She sunk into a stance and uncapped the vial. “Come and get me.”


	20. Chapter 20

The nurse shrieked as he slammed it against the wall. Terra arched his back, still feeling the pain of having a jagged knife forced into his shoulder. He just hoped that it didn’t carry any diseases.

Then again, considering the sheer amount of corpses and blood he had been exposed to lately, it didn’t really matter anymore.

Not wanting to summon Earthshaker and attract more, he cast Fire at the nurse’s head instead. It got the job done; the skull exploded and grey clumps flew everywhere – including all over him. Grimacing, he wiped his face off with the back of his hand; he clearly hadn’t thought that through.

Leaving the nurse on the floor, he staggered down the hall, still wiping his face. There was absolutely no way he was going to let any of it get into his mouth; he’d been through enough today. The knife clattered to the floor as he pulled it out, cringing, and he cast Cura to mend the wound. He rolled his shoulders; yep, still working.

He played with one of the frayed rips in his shirt. At this rate, he was going to need new clothes.

He laughed hollowly. At this rate, he was going to have to reserve himself a coffin.

_Don’t think about that_ , he chided himself, _just think about your friends._ Flicking a last bit of grey matter from his cheek, he continued onwards.

If the lighting was anything to go by, he was walking either deeper into the jail or underground. Both were the opposite of where he wanted to go, but it was the only path available. The town didn’t want him to go another way. He was starting to learn that navigating the town was like being caught in a torrent of rushing water: fighting against the current only made you drown. So he followed the path it laid out, hoping to drift close enough to shore to pull himself out.

There were steps behind him, too normal to be a nurse. He saw the hooded man again, walking with the aid of a cane.

“Do you need help?” he asked.

The man didn’t answer, and Terra reached out to tap his shoulder. However, his hand was intercepted with a quick rap of the cane, the force of which vibrated up his arms and down his spine. Terra rubbed it with a whimper.

“I’ll take that as a no,” he said.

He slowed and let the man pass, figuring that he knew where he was going. The man led him through twisting halls and winding passages, with no pattern that Terra could pick up on. Finally, he stopped, but it wasn’t because they had reached the end. There was something blocking their way.

No, not a something. A someone.

“Xaldin,” he growled.

“Where are you going, Terra?” Xaldin asked. “Have you decided that jail isn’t worth your time?”

Terra tried to walk past him, but Xaldin pulled a lance out of nowhere and used it to block the hall.

“You killed a man, Terra,” Xaldin said. Terra could hear an animal’s snarl behind the words. “Did you truly believe you could get away scot-free?”

“I know I deserve to be punished,” Terra said quietly, “I always have. But my friends haven’t done anything, and I need to make sure they’re safe, first.”

Xaldin sneered. “What a noble sentiment,” Xaldin said, walking closer. “I suppose that is why the Bogeyman is more interested in your little friend.”

“Ven,” he said hoarsely. So that thing was after his friend. Caution forgotten, Earthshaker appeared in his hand, and he trudged forwards.

Xaldin spun the lance so that the tip rested against Terra’s chin. “Now, don’t be hasty. The Bogeyman may be content to allow you wallow in your own despair, but I,” the lance fell back, the blunt end clanking on the floor, “I am _not_!”

Wind blasted Terra’s face as Xaldin swung at him. He moved backwards, stumbling into the hooded man who moved quicker than Terra thought possible. In less than a second, the hooded man was behind him, far out of the way of the ensuring fight.

A second lance slipped out from beneath the folds of Xaldin’s cloak, and impaled the rock just an inch away from Terra’s nose. The lance quivered there, dividing them, but the space offered was more than enough for Xaldin’s first lance, which made a diagonal tear through Terra’s shirt. Terra, guilt-ridden, shocked, was sluggish to raise Earthshaker in his own defense. Even so, his weapon was less effective in the tight halls than the thin, stabbing ones that Xaldin used.

A third lance appeared, and Terra was wondered how in the worlds Xaldin had managed to hide them. The duel-wielding man ducked under his other impaled lance, and swept forwards with a swipe, his cloak fanning out at his feet. Terra tried to dodge, but one of the tips caught him, carving out a cut that ran over the right side of his chest, disappeared for a moment, then reappeared on his left arm. Following the direction of his own momentum, Xaldin thrust his other lance forwards at Terra’s head, something he did manage to dodge.

He pinned the lance’s shaft with Earthshaker and when Xaldin tried to wrench it back, punched the man in the nose. Xaldin fell back, losing his hold on the trapped lance, only to reveal a fourth. Eyes blazing, he lunged at Terra, as fast and furious as a hurricane.

Terra grabbed the abandoned lance, and drove it into the ground. There, it created a diagonal barrier. It wouldn’t stop Xaldin, he was sure of it, but it gave the man pause.

“Stop!” Terra said. “I don’t want to fight you!”

Xaldin smirked. “Is that so? Well, do you know what I want, Terra?”

Out of nowhere, a fell wind grew, whipping Xaldin’s dreadlocks so that they partly covered his face.

“ _I want to see you bleed_!”

The wind howled, and the embedded lance was dislodged from its place. In its wake, Xaldin rushed forwards and pointed not one, but both lances at Terra’s chest.

Terra held his ground. _Don’t fail me now_ , he thought to Earthshaker.

The keyblade hummed.

He brought it down, straight across the shafts of the two lances. Xaldin stopped short, nearly toppling over his beloved weapons as Terra forced them into the ground. Xaldin didn’t even waste time with them, pulling out a fifth, and sixth lance. He tried to stab Terra over the other   two, but there was just enough time for the apprentice to slip out of the way.

“Xaldin, please, this isn’t going to help anyone.”

“It will help me!” the man countered. He stood tall, eyes narrowed in hate. “Only one of us is walking away today, and I promise it will be me.”

Xaldin slipped between the fallen lances, and attacked once more. This time, Terra was stricken on his waist and across his upper leg. The wounds burned as if something had placed a match to them.

He made the mistake of flinching, and then howled as Xaldin stabbed him.

He felt the lance grate against the bones in his chest. Xaldin smiled coldly. He forced the lance in deeper, smirking as Terra’s face contorted in agony. But in playing that game, Xaldin had lost. As the pain reached a fevered pitch, a massive surge of energy and adrenaline took over Terra’s body. He pressed a palm against Xaldin’s ribs, teeth bared, and let the power escape him.

Xaldin lost hold of the lances as an eruption of darkness propelled him down the length of the hall and smacked into the wall. In a dark, deep voice that was not his own, Terra pointed Earthshaker at the man and snarled, “Magnera.”

The lances shook and shot into the air, straight at their master.

One by one, the lances stopped with a clang, but the sound of them impaling flesh was curiously absent.

Xaldin opened his eyes to see a magical barrier in front of him. The lances had struck that instead.

Panting, Terra lowered his keyblade, images of what could have been flashing through his mind. He had . . . he had almost . . .

_But I didn’t_ , a part of his mind said. Terra stared at his hand, flexing his fingers as darkness coloured them. _I stopped it._

On his whim, the darkness rose from his hand and swirled around him, cloaking his wounds and healing them. Afterwards, it orbited him like a moon. This power, it wasn’t controlling him; he could _control_ it. Maybe, just maybe, Eraqus had been wrong.

“You should have finished me while you had the chance, boy.” The barrier was gone, and Xaldin had scooped up his lances. “You don’t fool me; leopards never change their spots.”

What did it take to make the man see reason? To the dark power around him, Terra said, “You helped me once, help me again.”

He laid his palms against the wall, staring at it even as Xaldin charged. The darkness was absorbed into the rock and as he watched, broke it down. The stone dissolved, sucked up by the black portal that grew in its center, and beyond that, Terra saw traces of another place.

He stepped through the wall, into an adjacent hallway, and shut the portal behind him.

He waited to see if Xaldin would come rushing around a corner. He didn’t. Terra blinked, looking around cautiously; this didn’t look like the hell the darkness had sent him to last time. It seemed like a perfectly normal, albeit broken-down and incredibly creepy, prison.

The darkness drifted out of the wall and back into him, like a knife sliding into its sheath. Xemnas had told him darkness was only a tool, and now, he was starting to believe it.

“Thank you,” he said, even though there was no one to thank.

“Terra?”

The hooded man stared at him from a doorway at one end of the hall. Terra coloured, suddenly feeling guilty.

That was soon replaced by suspicion. “You know my name?”

The hooded man shook his head, disappearing into the area behind the door, and Terra followed.

It opened up into a large, circular room. From somewhere high above, a single ray of sunshine shone down on the center. That’s where the hooded man stood, his white cloak almost ethereal in the light. In the distance behind him, Terra saw the huge head of a stone dragon. Teeth as long as his arm protruded from its jaws and ever bigger were the twin horns that curved backwards upon its head; the dragon’s body curled and slithered up the wall, so long that it extended to the ground where a rolling slope marked the dragon’s tail. It was similar to statues he’d seen in The Land of Dragons.

“What madness is this, Terra?” the hooded man rumbled.

Terra frowned. “I’m sorry?”

“I believed in you,” the man said. “I looked at you and I saw a child whose fate was not yet made. I believed,” he shook his head, “that you could be redeemed.”

“I see now that I was wrong.” The man grabbed the handle of his cane, pulled, and out came a long, gleaming sword. “No good can ever come from darkness. You have gone astray, Terra, and I will stop you before you bring more harm to the worlds.”

With his last words, the man levelled his sword at Terra who stood some distance away.

“Look, I don’t even know you!” Terra protested. “I don ‘t know where all of this is coming from.”

“You have given into darkness.”

Seriously? This was worse than trying to convince Aqua that he didn’t steal any of her cookies. Terra groaned. “I’m not giving into anything,” he said. “I just want to grab my friends and get out of here.”

Squaring his jaw, Terra puffed out his chest and firmly stated, “If I have to use darkness to do that, then I will.”

“And bring ruin upon them.”

He clenched his fists and held them tight at his side. “I would never do that!”

“No? Then what was it when you strangled Ventus?”

Many emotions ran through him at once: guilt, humiliation, and rage that this man even dared to bring that up. “How do you know that?” Terra spat.

“I’ve been watching you, Terra, hoping that you would choose the right path. But you have failed.”

“Just tell me who you are!” Darkness began to extend from him, creating an eerie doppelganger that stood at his shoulder. “Show me!”

Terra closed the distance between them, fuming. The tip of this sword resting on the floor, the hooded man watched with no reaction. Even when Terra was practically breathing into his face, the other man did nothing. It pissed Terra off, that’s what it did, and he had half a mind to reach up and tear the hood off.

It bothered him that he cared so much.

“Who are you?” Terra demanded. The darkness rose behind him.

“You know who I am.”

“No, I really don’t. But if you want to fight me,” he summoned Earthshaker and got into a battle stance, “you won’t win.”

Terra didn’t expect the man to do anything, and that was why the sword got him. He shouted, clutching his forearm that had gotten between the sword and his neck. The man had tried to kill him!

His blood dripped from the man’s blade. The man held it steady, the way a warrior would before sparring with an imaginary opponent. But this was no show, and the next strike was as quick and lethal as a viper, seeming to sever the very fabric of the air itself.

When he blocked, Terra’s keyblade vibrated oddly, like a gong that had just been stricken. It rattled him, causing his teeth to chatter.

The hooded man spun, bringing his sword around with him, and brought it towards Terra’s head. He blocked that too, and then parried a thrust as the man slide forwards and past. There, the man made to stab his unprotected back, but Terra twisted and the blade of the sword scraped against his keyblade a few inches away from his fingers. Summoning his strength, Terra purposely locked their weapons, and tore the man’s sword away from him.

The man leapt back, and the air grew charged with the conjuring of a spell. Terra acted first. He willed the darkness into action and watched, satisfied, as the black and purple stream collided with the man. He didn’t go flying as Xaldin had, but the power forced him to his knees. Before the man could stand, Terra blasted him with a shockwave that knocked his feet out from under him. Palm up, Terra closed his fist, and ropes of darkness wrapped around the man’s wrists and secured him to the ground. The man struggled against his restraints, but to no avail.

“Now, who are you?”

Terra reached down, and pulled the hood back.

The shock he received was so great that the darkness vanished with a pop.

Freed from his bonds, Master Eraqus leapt deftly to his feet and shot a light spell at Terra’s feet.

The energy exploded against the rock, leaving behind a cloud of smoke as Terra was thrown backwards. He landed hard, the back of his head bouncing off the ground and threatening to render him unconscious. Weakly, he murmured a healing spell, gasping as the magic washed over him. Meanwhile, Master Eraqus had summoned his sword – no wait. The weapon was glimmering, glowing as it transformed into Master Keeper.

Terra shook his head in denial. “You can’t be the Master.”

“Terra,” Eraqus moaned, “where did I go wrong?”

“No, who are you really? Why are you pretending to be my Master?” Terra’s hand shook as he pointed his keyblade at the person wearing his Master’s face. “Tell me the truth!”

“It was a test, Terra. One final hurdle before the Mark of Mastery Exam, to see whether or not you had the ability to resist the darkness.”

“The Exam?” he said weakly. How many times had he dreamed of that day? To have it dangled now in front of his face, in the midst of this absolute nightmare, it was, for lack of a better word, horribly cruel.

He didn’t have the strength to lift his keyblade anymore. “Prove it,” he said, the back of his eyes burning with what suspiciously felt like tears, “prove that you’re my Master!”

“What do you want me to tell you?” the man said. “How resistant you were, at first, to Aqua training with us, or later, how angry you were when Aqua ignored you in favour of Ventus? Did you want to relive your past, and revisit the filthy, starved boy that I found tucked away into a cell? We know all your secrets,” he lowered his arm in a swipe, “do not patronize me.”

Kingdom Hearts, it was his Master. Terra couldn’t speak without stuttering, and Earthshaker slipped from his fingers. “Master, please . . .”

“I’m sorry, Terra. I will take Aqua and Ventus out of here now, but you will have to find your own way.”

Master Eraqus turned, walking towards the great stone dragon, and Terra shouted after him, “Wait, you know where they are?”

“Of course I do, Terra. I’ve been watching all of you.”

“Master, please!” He ran up to Eraqus, grabbing his sleeve. “Just let me come with you and say goodbye.”

“I’m afraid that is not possible, Terra.” Eraqus yanked his sleeve away, and the cold gesture ripped Terra’s heart apart.

“No,” he whispered, “no, this can’t be happening.” He reached weakly after his Master. “Please, just let me see them.”

“They are no longer your concern.”

“Not my . . . not _my concern!”_ It was amazing how quickly all emotions could be transformed into rage. Gone was the begging apprentice from before; now, Terra was a man that had been kicked one too many times.

“Do you have any idea how scared I’ve been for them?” He was shouting into the Master’s face, revelling in the shock. “Where you’ve been sitting back and ‘ _watching’_ ,” he spat the word out like poison, “I’ve had to tear my way through monsters, psychopaths, and all the other shit this town decides to throw at me! _I broke into hell for them_!”

Never had Terra expected to feel such hate for the man who had virtually raised him. However, in the heat of the moment, it felt long overdue. All that rage he had made peace with, emotions from when he was a child and Eraqus had ripped him away from the only home he knew, returned in full force. This time though, Terra wasn’t a child. He was grown, strong, and capable of causing real harm.

His biceps trembled as he grabbed his Master by the collar. He pulled him close, making certain that the Master would hear the rest of his grim, venom-laced words.

“You don’t deserve them.”

He reached down to his waist and grabbed the golden badge Eraqus had given him. Even then, giving him gold instead of the silver his friends donned, had Eraqus already doubted him?

“I _will_ protect them.”

He tore the badge off, nearly crushing it in his hand, and threw it to the floor.

“Even if I have to go through you!”


	21. Chapter 21

It had been such a stupid idea, but the bait had been too tempting. She had woken up from her foggy haze with one clear thought: her boys were in trouble. It had rung through her with unyielding certainty. Honestly, considering where they were, it wasn’t a surprise, but Aqua had always been one to play the knight. She had forced herself to her feet, grabbed her Wayfinder from a nearby nightstand, and stumbled out into the hall.

It had been a long and laborious trip. The nausea from before hadn’t gone away, and should she move too quickly, it would slam into her like a freight train. Her legs had been weak too, shaking as they supported her weight, and constantly fighting against her. But she had obeyed the nagging voice that spurred her onwards, and finally, toppled through the doors of Brookhaven Hospital.

The fog had been heavy, and she had almost been able to feel it pressing on her back. However, oddly, it had seemed to clear in front of her, laying a path for her to follow. She hadn’t like it; nothing in this town came without a price.

_You have nothing to lose by following_ , had whispered a smooth voice in her head, _only by staying_.

Ever since she had woken up, it had been hard to gather her thoughts and interpret them in any meaningful way. The creeping shivers from before had crawled back up her spine, numbing her mind into what was almost a trance. But the voice she heard had spoken calmly, firmly, and she latched onto it as the only coherent thought she had. So, she had walked into the mist, oblivious to how it collapsed behind her.

And now she was lost.

Her condition had only gotten worse the further she got from Brookhaven. She could hear things in the fog around her, sniffing, nails clicking against concrete; none of them attacked her though, and for that she was grateful.

At her side, a rusty knife hung next to her leg. She’d come across it while walking through an alleyway, and grabbed it. It wasn’t nearly as powerful or comforting as Rainfell, but it was better than nothing.

She leaned against a wall, retching. Despite the shivers sending her body into seizures and the cold sheen of sweat on her skin, there was a strange spot of her heat in her chest, around her heart. She clutched at the fabric there as another dry-heave took over her body. Of all the times to be sick, it had to be now.

_Keep going_ , said the voice, _you’re not there yet_.

She pushed away from the wall, urging her struggling body forwards. She walked carefully, jerkily, too dizzy to trust her feet. She was making progress though, as slow it was.

She could only hope Terra and Ven would last that long.

_Wrong way,_ the voice told her as she tried to turn off the street. She was vaguely puzzled by its certainty, but it was easier to listen than to think.

She continued to navigate the streets, adjusting her course only when the voice suggested it. _Almost there_ , it whispered, _that building._

She walked up to it, dragging her hand down the entrance’s cracked and smeared window. The dirt came off on her fingers, staining them brown. Curiously, she stared at them.

She had the sense of something curling around her, a presence that hovered nearby. It was no physical form she sensed, but a force, energy. Some distant part of her cringed from the being, but the majority of her mind had been dragged down into the murky depths of her illness. The alarm simply didn’t register.

_Not inside,_ the voice said as she grabbed the doorknob, _just wait_.

She hesitated. She wanted to go inside. Inside was warmth and safety; inside, she could rest.

_NO!_ the voice snarled. The word bounced around the inside of her skull like the strikes of a sledgehammer, adding further strength to her already powerful headache. She grabbed the sides of her head, her face twisting in pain. It was easier, she decided, just to listen.

She sat down on the curb, the knife lying across her lap. Apart from the old, stone building behind her, there wasn’t much to look at. So, she stared at her reflection in the knife instead. The build-up of rust meant that she could see only the top half of her face. What she saw were sweaty bangs plastered on a pale face and eyes sunken from exhaustion. She sighed; she really needed a bath when she got home.

It was so hot now. She felt like she was boiling in her skin, but the working, logical part of her mind told her it was only the sickness. For all she knew, she was freezing to death. The world spun around her. Why had she left Brookhaven again? She sorted through her memories; ah, yes, her friends were in trouble, Terra and . . .

And who else?

It startled her because she knew there was another, and that he was very important to her. For a millisecond, her mind cleared, and she was able to grasp that the name began with a V. Everything after that, though, was blurry.

V. Okay, she could work with that. How many names did she know with that letter? She tried hard to think, but her brain was not cooperating today. It just wanted her to close her eyes and rest.

She obeyed.

* * *

“Aqua!”

The wind carried his voice far, so that it glided over the buildings like a bird. The two syllables were stretched out to far beyond their usual length, blurring together as their speaker caved to worry and exhaustion. Ven tucked his chin against his chest, protecting his face against the storm.

It had started up suddenly, after he had spent about a minute outside. Whereas the snow had fallen lightly before, now it was violent and heavy, not falling in individual flakes, but in large clumps. The tips of his spikes were frosted white, and melted snow made his scalp wet. It felt like he was standing under a cold shower.

He could actually see the wind as it tossed snow into the air. Like merry children, the swirls ran around him, occasionally crashing right into his face. He brushed it off with his sleeve every time, only succeeding in transferring some of the dampness from his clothes to his skin.

Eyes dark with worry, he watched a hot puff of air rise from his mouth. The weather was bad enough for him, but for Aqua in her condition . . . he needed to find her fast. He prayed she still had enough sense to seek shelter.

“Aqua!”

The wind’s howl answered him. Ven sighed, and ran his fingers along the curve of his Wayfinder. He wished that he had asked Naminé to modify his the way she had fixed the one belonging to Terra. Having an Aqua-radar would be great right now.

He looked back. A wall of wind and snow met him. It looked like it was too late to go back to Naminé.

He trudged through the snow. It came up to his ankles now, and judging by the squelch he heard every time he took a step, some of it had gotten into his shoes. It was an unpleasant sensation, but lately, he had faced worse. In comparison, this was easy.

A fresh clump of snow smacked him in the face, as if punishing him for thinking that.

A neon sign flickered as he walked past. Every store in sight had the word ‘Closed’ in its window. It almost looked like the owners had deserted in a hurry, for many of the signs hung lopsided or appeared broken and dusty from disuse. Most of the lights had been turned off, but there were a few instances where one still worked, highlighting this good or another. There were beautiful things that he saw, and he wondered how anyone could bear to make anything that special in such a horrible town.

He wondered how anyone could live here, period.

Snowdrifts blocked most of the doors. They looked as though they had been days in the making, not minutes. It only confirmed his suspicion that this storm wasn’t entirely natural; clearly, the town was deliberately throwing obstacles in his way.

Ven stuck close to the walls, savouring whatever relief they provided. Awnings flapped, pulling at their bonds and looking as though they would take off at any given moment. One did tear loose, flying between the haloed streetlights and up into the sky, where it became nothing more than a black speck. He watched it, clutching to a pole as the wind picked up. That wouldn’t happen to him, right?

The windows shook in their frames. Ven turned his head, walking blindly into the wind.

“Terra!”

It appeared neither of his friends was nearby. He sighed.

He didn’t know how long he had been walking. But then, he heard the sound of sliding metal and ran towards it, hoping it was Terra. It wasn’t, but it was an ally of his. Ansem stood in the middle of the street, holding his sword in two hands as he sliced through the midsection of some unknown monster. Ven only saw a writhing mass on the ground before it faded into dust.

When Ven stepped closer, Ansem whipped around, sword high and a snarl on his face. His eyes widened as he saw Ven there, and he redirected his swing just in time; it cracked against the ground instead.

“You’re still here?” Ansem said.

“I need to find my friends.”

“Hmph.” Ansem sheathed his sword, looking around carefully. “Things are getting very dangerous, Ventus.”

“I’m not leaving without them!”

Ansem closed his eyes. “I thought you might say that. Stubbornness seems to be a trait all of you share.”

Ven grinned and jabbed a thumb into his chest. “That’s us, alright!”

Ansem scoffed. “I never said that was a good thing.”

“You never said it wasn’t.”

Ansem turned away, perhaps upset that a boy was verbally besting him. Ven frowned as he realized that the man intended to leave; he could really use a partner right now. There was safety in numbers, and safety was one of those things this town lacked. He couldn’t do wrong by trying to change that.

“I don’t really know where I’m going,” Ven said. “Could I go with you?”

Ansem asked him a surprising question. “Can you fight?”

Ven summoned his keyblade and held it up. “Yep!”

“Then I suppose it would be nice to have a helping hand.”

Ven tagged along behind him, and they walked into the fog.

Ansem didn’t seem to know where he was headed either, although the storm may have just stopped him from finding his way. They moved about in a seemingly random fashion, sticking close for protection and warmth. Ven in particular positioned himself behind the man so that Ansem blocked the wind, and he grinned at his brilliance.

“I’m sorry I don’t have your sweater,” Ven said.

Ansem blinked. “That’s alright. I have more important concerns right now.”

Ven went on,” I didn’t lose it; Terra’s just borrowing it.”

“Terra?” Ansem’s eyebrows, covered in white frost, rose. “Your friend who fell off a building?”

“He’s fine,” Ven offered as a means of explanation.

He heard Ansem snort, but the man said nothing else.

The storm died suddenly. Ven blinked and looked up at the shadow of the church, which waited behind a low wall. Bells rang, making his heart race, though he wasn’t sure why. He had the sense of standing in the middle of the tracks as a train roared towards him; he could almost taste the danger on his tongue.

“This place again?” Ansem growled.

Ven looked at him questioningly. “You’ve been here before.”

“Yes, I just left it.”

On top of the church’s spire, a weathervane spun. Ven grimaced and rubbed his chest. Something about this place pulled at him, called him closer, but common sense and fear held him back.

“Come,” Ansem said, appearing disturbed himself, “let us leave this place.”

After they had been walking for a couple of minutes, Ven spoke up.

“What are you looking for?” he asked.

Ansem softly said, “Answers.”

“What are you going to do with them?”

His lips thinned just a little. “I don’t know. That is not for me to decide.”

Ven nodded, and crossed his arms behind his head. “When I find my friends,” he said, “first, we’re getting the heck out of here. Then, I’m going to grab my stuff and sleep in Aqua’s room.” He grinned widely. “Whenever I do that, Terra feels lonely, so he’ll have to come and join us, too!”

Ven sighed. “I miss them.”

“I know; it’s always hard to lose someone you love.”

For a moment, Ansem’s face was shadowed with grief.

* * *

She woke up wet and freezing, reaching for covers that weren’t there.

It took a while to figure out why she wasn’t in bed, or why the Land of Departure was covered in snow. She sat up and looked around, confirming that this horrible adventure was not a dream. Fog still surrounded her, but the sun seemed stronger, warmer. It was a welcome balm to the shivers overtaking her body.

“Terra?” she asked, her voice a croak. The older apprentice was nowhere to be found. Surely, Terra wouldn’t leave her like this?

Oh, yes, that was right. He had left, and she was going after him. He was in trouble, possibly even hurt. She wondered how she knew that.

( _Briefly, she thought there was something else she was forgetting)_

Something stirred in the back of her mind. _It’s okay, go back to sleep_ , the silky voice from before said.

She shook her head, even though there was no one around. Terra was in trouble; she couldn’t stay here and sleep!

It felt like there was anchors attached to her feet, but she moved them anyways. The world swayed under her, so she went slowly, dragging her toes along the ground. She knew Terra was in trouble, but if only there was a place to accompany that thought. It would make life much easier.

_Stay_ , the voice whispered.

Again, she ignored it, and she thought she heard it grumble. Unseen, her Wayfinder gleamed.

She remembered falling asleep to the sight of this building. Her memories were still foggy, but she was relatively sure that this was the place Terra where was. If not, well, she didn’t have anywhere else to look, and her mind was functioning enough to tell her that randomly wandering about was not a good idea.

She could see the front door to the building about half a block away. It was then she looked back and saw where she had been before. It was by a group of trashcans and rotting wooden boards, their forms dark even from this distance. From that vantage point, she would have been able to watch the front door while not being seen herself. The defensiveness of that spot surprised her, although considering all the monsters around here, it made some sense.

She was a few steps away from the door when the growling started. Slowly, almost dreamily, she looked over her shoulder. A green hound stood there, teeth bared. Its hackles were pointed straight up, shifting as it stepped forwards. Unlike the first one she had seen, this one did not appear at all friendly. She held out her hand, blinking when she saw the knife. Only then did she remember what happened to Rainfell.

Her keyblade was gone, and so, her ability to defend herself. More importantly, her ability to heal was gone, too.

She didn’t have any time to panic before it leapt at her.

Teeth snapped an inch away from her neck, and the weight knocked her to the ground. She grabbed the dog’s snout, dropping the knife, and pressed her head against its neck to keep it away from the dog’s teeth. At once, she was assaulted by the stench of rotting meat. The dog thrashed, trying to break free, and flecks of saliva and foam dripped from its jaws and down her arm.

She felt the moment the dog went off-balance, and pressed her advantage. Pressing her elbow into its windpipe, she forced it to the ground. The dog’s head landed just next to the sitting knife, which seemed to have a tint of red to it even as she looked. The dog continued to struggle, kicking her with its hind paws which, thankfully, lacked claws. All she had to worry about was the teeth, and she had control of that.

And then suddenly, she didn’t.

Her left hand slid sideways, into the dog’s mouth, and sharp canines plunged into her flesh. She screamed, instinctively trying to rip her hand away, and that only made the dog bite harder. It shook with all its weight, nearly throwing itself on the ground. She knew three seconds of agony as something stretched, and then she and the dog were flying apart, that same thing having given.

Weakly, she held up her left hand and stared at the blood streaming down it. The tips of her index and middle finger were missing, as though someone had picked up a sword and sliced through them.

She snarled at the recovering dog. Anger burned the exhaustion from her blood, filling her with its strength. It was a rage that did not feel entirely like her, like something she should be capable of feeling, but she was drunk on its power.

Without a second thought, she grabbed the knife.

Screams echoed through the air, but they were not human.

When it was over, she finally came down from her high, and trembled as she realized what she had done.

The voice in her mind laughed.


	22. Chapter 22

Using his keyblade as a crutch, Terra gasped for breath. Across from him, his Master did the same. The shadow of the stone dragon fell upon them, hiding their weary and rueful expressions from each other. Terra moved first, standing up straight with an almost inhuman strength. He had long ago burned through his stores of energy and was relying mainly on adrenaline now. The only bright spot was that it seemed Eraqus was in the same state.

“Terra, stop this madness. You don’t have to do this.”

Terra swallowed and hardened his emotions. “Actually, I think I do.”

No matter the truthfulness of his words, he couldn’t let go of the past he and Eraqus shared. “Stand down,” Terra pleaded. “I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

Eraqus looked up, despair written all over his face. “Terra, I cannot.”

There was something else there, some hidden meaning that Terra couldn’t understand. He silently begged Eraqus to explain, or drop another hint, but he did not. Instead, Eraqus stood up himself, holding Master Keeper steady.

Terra closed his eyes and nodded. “No matter how you think of me,” he murmured, “it doesn’t change the fact that you were my Master. I will always treasure that, but my friends come first.”

He met Eraqus’s stare. “I’m ready.”

Once more, they clashed, blade against blade. The world shook with the sounds of their battle, and burned white with the heat of Eraqus’s magic. Grunting, Terra twisted to block another one of Eraqus’s spells, slicing through it and reducing it to shards. The resulting light reflected off the sweat on his face, and seemed to make his blue eyes flare. He charged straight through the next one, wincing as it broke over his back.

He could see that Eraqus was surprised by such a rash offense, but that emotion was only betrayed by the lifting of an eyebrow. There was no hesitation as the old Master brought his keyblade up and defended against Terra’s overhand swing. Their bodies trembled, and Eraqus disengaged, sliding underneath Earthshaker and around Terra’s back like a snake. Raising his keyblade, Eraqus voiced the harsh syllables of a spell, and blasted his former apprentice in the back of the head.

Terra fell. Earthshaker clattered to the ground beside him. Though his eyes were closed, his vision swam with odd colours he didn’t recognize. Through the pads of his fingers, he felt the vibrations Eraqus’s steps, and was vaguely aware of a shadow crossing over him.

He opened his eyes and weakly lifted his head. Eraqus’s last spell had been insanely powerful, much stronger than anything he had endured at the hands of Aqua. Whatever it was, it had drained Eraqus too and now, his former Master knelt on one knee, body glistening with sweat. Upon seeing Terra still conscious, Eraqus sucked in a deep breath, and forced himself to stand.

“I am sorry, Terra, but this is the end.” Master Keeper shone a brilliant white. “I cannot allow a monster such as yourself to plague the worlds.”

On his stomach, Terra could only beg. “Please, Master! I haven’t done anything wrong with the darkness. I won’t, I promise; I just need it to protect my friends.”

He crawled up to his hands and knees, leaving Earthshaker where it laid. Above Eraqus, the stone dragon watched, its eyes seeming to follow him wherever he moved.

“What about that man you killed, Terra? Do you deny that crime?”

“No, I don’t!” he shouted. “But it didn’t happen like that; it wasn’t because of the darkness. It was an accident!”

Terra dropped his head, his lip trembling as a few tears squeezed out of his eyes. “I didn’t _know_. . .”

* * *

_He curled up underneath the dumpster, the cool metal sapping of all his heat. Huddled up, he shut his eyes and prayed, his lips shaping words that he didn’t dare utter. He could hear the young cop running down the alley, the sound growing louder and louder before the steps stopped completely._

_“You got him, Fair?”_

_“Yeah, he’s holed up under here. Hey, just relax, kid. We don’t want to hurt you; we’re the good guys!”_

_In the thin slit of light between the dumpster and the ground, the young cop’s head appeared. His smile was deceptively kind, like that of a maniac before he pulled the trigger. He extended a welcoming hand to Terra, smiling. “We just want to talk to you.”_

_Terra was still, not trusting himself to speak. The cop seemed to understand and backed off, waiting. Terra didn’t want to come out; he couldn’t go to jail! But the cop seemed so friendly . . . maybe he was telling the truth. Maybe they just wanted to talk._

_Slowly, Terra inched his way toward the open._

_“Come on, just a little further.”_

_The light fell across Terra’s face as he peeked out of his hiding place. He eyed the young cop, then the other, bigger one. There was no sympathy in those eyes, just cold judgement, and Terra froze. The young cop had lied; they were here to take him in._

_He knew what would happen. No one gave a hoot about a ragged, street kid like him. The trial would just be a farce, and he would be locked away forever. He_ knew _that._

_His heart clenched. He wouldn’t let them take him._

_With no other options, he hurriedly made to retreat underneath the dumpster._

_“Whoa, don’t do that!”_

_Terra turned his head a fraction of an inch, and saw a hand swooping down towards him. Panic welled inside him, and he reacted, trying to push the cop away. His heart tightened and then, as the cop’s fingers grazed his arm, there was a flash of hot pain in his chest and the sense of something breaking free . . ._

_He thrust out with his hand, his fingers curling automatically and suddenly, grasping something solid._

_The giant key appeared in a flash of light, heavy and too big for him. By the time he realized he was even holding something, the keyblade was arcing towards the cop’s chest, and with a terrified scream, he tried to stop it –_

_Officer Fair lay dead on the ground._

* * *

“I didn’t even know I had the keyblade,” Terra said hoarsely. “By the time I did, I couldn’t do anything.”

“Nothing more than an unfortunate accident,” Eraqus whispered. Master Keeper dropped, and its wielder backed away, his chin pointed at an upwards angle. “Now, Terra, do you see?”

“See what?”

“The truth,” Eraqus said. “Do you understand now?”

Terra shook his head. “What are you talking about?”

Eraqus continued as if he hadn’t heard him. “If you understand, then you have no further use for me.”

“Just tell me what you’re talking about!”

Eraqus smiled. “Goodbye, Terra.”

Eraqus stepped back into the shadows, and they swallowed him up. Terra cried out, reaching for his retreating figure, but Eraqus left with no more words. There was only the flutter of Terra’s heartbeat.

He groaned, sitting; he hurt everywhere and had sprained muscles he didn’t know he had. The dragon statue towered above him, and he envied its cool and unyielding being. What he wouldn’t give to have skin that tough, so that he walk through this town with ease! He wanted very much to stay here and rest, but there was  
still Aqua and Ven to rescue. He had to keep moving.

Although at this rate, a snail would beat him to them.

He hobbled across the room, focusing on the faces of his friends. He could hear their laughter, feel that warmth in his chest that came when he was with them. His friends were everything to him; he just wished he had taken the time to tell them that.

He took out his Wayfinder, and held it to his chest. “Wherever we are,” he whispered, “our hearts are always connected. I’ll find you guys; I promise.” He smiled as he felt a tug in his chest.

“Terra?”

The tug grew stronger, but pulled away from the voice. He frowned, rubbing his chest. The voice called him again, and like a man hearing a siren’s song, he was ensnared. He knew that voice, and knew it well.

He stepped forwards, turning in a circle as he looked for the voice’s source. “Aqua, is that you? Where are you?”

“I’m here.”

He whipped around. She stood in the doorway through which he and Eraqus had entered. How she got behind them, he didn’t know, but all sorts of crazy stuff happened in this place.

“Aqua. . .” He forced his battered body forwards, not able to wait for her to reach him.

She fell into his arms and he grabbed on tight, content just to hold her, to feel her and know that she was there. Her head was nestled underneath his chin; her hands clenched fistfuls of his shirt. He choked, nearly sobbing, bringing her in closer. She smelt of the ocean.

“I was so worried,” he said, “I didn’t know if you and Ven were okay.”

“Shh,” she was rubbing his back, “I’m here; it’s okay.”

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Terra said. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”

In this almost sacred moment, all his defenses, his walls so carefully built and maintained, began to unravel. The need for strength had passed, and he was allowed to be vulnerable. Burying his face in her hair, he inhaled her scent and allowed himself to think those thoughts that he had long ago placed off-limits. It was okay if she didn’t share them, or if the Master would disapprove, because nothing mattered except that she was here and she was safe. Even Ven had started to fade to the back of his mind.

A twinge in his heart brought him back to reality. The Wayfinder’s magic started up again, pulling away from Aqua. He frowned, mentally shushing it. Aqua was right here; where could it possibly want him to go?

“You’re wounded,” she said softly, tracing a line of blood on his chin. It was an intimate gesture, and Terra wondered if she realized what she was doing.

He moved her hand away from his face. “I got into a fight,” he admitted. He healed it quickly, failing to notice that Aqua made no move to do the same.

“With the Master.”

He blinked. “You know?” How long had she been watching them?

“Maybe,” she whispered, “it was for the best.”

For the best? He wanted to ask how she could possibly think that, but then her hand stoked his face and that thought was forgotten in an instant. Surely, this proved that Aqua knew _exactly_ what she was doing. Even if it took place here, it was like a wonderful dream, and he didn’t want to do anything to ruin it.

“You’re tired, Terra,” she said. “You need to rest.”

“I will once we find Ven,” he promised.

They were holding hands at waist-height, and Aqua kept running her thumb along his. He shuddered; just the thought of her touch sent shudders up his spine. She stood on her tiptoes, whispering into his ear, “Don’t worry about him. Sleep, Terra, I’ll wake you when everything is ready.”

Drunk on her voice, Terra nodded without thinking. At once, a heaviness weighed down his eyelids, threatening to close them. He kept them open, needing to be able to see her, lest she was ripped away from him again. He knew that last time it was his own fault, that he was the one to run off. He would never do that again; no matter what happened, he would stay with her.

“I can’t sleep,” he rasped, “not until you two are safe.”

“I am safe,” she said firmly. In a lower, huskier voice, she said, “Stay with me, Terra. Stay here with me.”

“Of course,” he said.

She smiled, and gently pushed him down. He blinked, as lost as a child, when he found himself on his back, head in her lap. She stroked the side of his face, and he closed his eyes in bliss.

“Sleep, Terra,” she ordered.

He gave into her, and was already half-asleep when the question spilled out.

“What about Ven?”

She said, “He’s not important. Just sleep.”

His eyes shot open just in time to see a flicker of . . . of something in her eyes. Feeling his stiffness, she frowned. Quickly, he shut his eyes and forced himself to relax; however, sleep was the last thing on his mind. He kept himself quietly alert, while allowing his words to slur.

“You’re right,” he mumbled, “who needs Ven? He just causes trouble.”

“Exactly,” Aqua said, and he could hear a note of satisfaction in her voice.

A part of him curled up and died.  So, this was why she was acting so strange, because all this time . . . The Wayfinder pulled at his heart again, and this time, he understood exactly what it was trying to tell him. He bit back a sob. It would not do good to show weakness here; he had the advantage, he didn’t dare lose it.

“Aqua . . .”

As she leaned over to hear what he had to say, his eyes opened and he struck.

Earthshaker went straight through her chest.

There was silence as they looked at each other. For one, horrible moment, Terra thought he had it all wrong. Then, a black liquid began to stream out of her eyes, even though there was no wound there. Satisfied, he pulled Earthshaker back and watched.

Colour drained from her face, leaving it a ghastly white. The clothes tore in strange places as she stumbled about like a zombie. Despite it all, her scent stayed the same, only now it made him gag.

When it was over, Aqua no longer stood in front of him, but a nurse did. The monster moaned, clutching feebly at her chest, giving Terra what seemed to be an offended glare. He said nothing, shaking. How . . . how dare she? She had imitated his best friend and then, and then what? Tried to seduce him? He remembered with disgust how his face had been in her stringy hair. He dismissed Earthshaker; he wanted to kill this thing, but he wanted to do it personally.

This nurse had no knife and so, was helpless when he advanced. Locking his hands around her neck, he wrestled her to the floor and held her there. Nails scratched at his hand, drawing blood in their efforts. He gritted his teeth and ignored the string, instead indulging his seemingly bottomless desire for vengeance. It wasn’t enough for these things to stab him with knives and stalk him through the prison, they had to grant him a moment of hope and then crush that, too! He squeezed harder; no death, no matter how painful and horrific, would ever do justice.

“Die,” he hissed, eyes flashing yellow.

The nurse struggled until death. Breathing heavily, he stood up and stared at it, still seeing Aqua’s reflection on its face. With an enraged howl, he stomped on its chest, grinning as he heard bone crack underneath. He was going to make sure that it never got up again.

He looked up, and saw Master Eraqus looking at him. There was something off about him, something that he only noticed now. As if acknowledging Terra’s brand-new awareness, Eraqus bowed his head. Flakes of his body dropped off, similar to how the dark world appeared when the sirens wailed. Master Keeper thickened, spouting rust along its blade; Slowly, Eraqus broke apart, and then it was no longer him, just a cloud of black flakes that faded into the air.

Terra laughed wildly. He broke out of his fit to snarl, “You’re missing someone! Come on!” He paced in a circle, screaming into the air. “Don’t you want the whole set?”

By one of the dragon’s claws, the shadows deepened. Then something that looked like Ven stepped out. Terra scoffed; now, it wasn’t even trying. This imposter had darkness around the edges, and its eyes weren’t completely blue. Sneering, Terra advanced on the thing that was not Ven, itching to vent.

It took off.

“Get back here!” Terra bellowed. Without a thought, he chased the imposter.

It didn’t matter to him where the imposter went, only that it would be destroyed at his hands. So, he chased it, forcing his tired legs to keep going. The imposter dove around corners and winded through hallways, but he didn’t lose it. In those moments, Terra wouldn’t have recognized himself. His mouth seemed to be permanently curled in a snarl, and the lines on his face made him look older and gaunt. His blue eyes were as dark as the ocean depths, occasionally giving way to an orange-yellow. Earthshaker had changed to match him, with its shaft dimming into a dark grey. He didn’t even bother to try to control the darkness trailing him.

He burst through a pair of doors, and a snow-filled gust smacked him square in the face. There wasn’t even time to celebrate that he was finally out of the prison, for the imposter flashed into his vision again, and rage was the only emotion he felt. He stomped towards it, lashing out at another fake Aqua along the way and painting the snow with a spray of blood. The Ven-imposter cocked its head, observing him curiously, only turning tail when Terra rushed at it.

Snow clung to his shoes, building up as if it was trying to hold him back. It irritated him how it slowed him down and in a stroke of genius that Aqua – the real Aqua – would have been proud of, he melted the snow in front of him with a spell. Ha, and people said you couldn’t think when you were angry!

He cornered the imposter in an alleyway. Like a real person, the imposter glanced all around, even upwards in an effort to find an escape route. Terra smirked as the thing realized it was trapped, and it backed up against the wall, shivering in faked fear.

“If you were really Ven,” Terra said softly, stroking Earthshaker’s shaft, “then you would have outran me a long time ago.”

The imposter’s chin snapped up. The shivering stopped. The imposter’s expression seemed to harden, as if it had realized just how badly it had messed up and was trying to reclaim some dignity. Terra wouldn’t have it; this thing didn’t deserve dignity. It didn’t deserve to exist.

The imposter didn’t budge as Terra got closer. Another man might have been impressed at its bravery, but Terra wasn’t; this thing wasn’t real, it couldn’t feel fear. That was all. There was no other great secret. Holding his keyblade steady, he aimed it right at the imposter’s neck, planning to kill it in one strike.

Earthshaker slammed into the wall, passing right through the imposter.

The imposter stared at him, not at all injured. Like a ghost, the keyblade had passed straight through, leaving Terra with nothing but the bitter taste of disappointment. The imposter watched Terra as he stepped back, then, with a shrug, it faded into thin air.

Well, at least he was out of the jail. He ran a hand through his hair and down his neck, pausing when he noticed that another bloody trail was following him. Terra stared at it for a second, and then sighed. Rolling his eyes, he hoisted Earthshaker up to his shoulder and –

Blood dripped onto his clothes.

His heart stopped. With trembling hands, he lowered his keyblade so that he could see it, and his eyes widened in terror.

His keyblade was covered in fresh blood.

Monsters didn’t bleed. He _knew_ that.

Frantically, he rewinded recent events. He’d fought nurses whose clothes were stained in blood, but didn’t bleed themselves. He didn’t think a few bloody garments would translate to the amount on his keyblade. He’d fought Master Eraqus, but that turned out to be a fraud; so had the Aqua in the prison. He hadn’t been able to even hurt the Ven imposter, so . . .

A fuzzy memory revealed itself, one that happened so fast, he barely even registered it.

_He stomped towards the imposter, lashing out at another fake Aqua along the way and painting the snow with a spray of blood._

Kingdom Hearts, that had been no fake.

It had been the real thing.

What had he done?

“Aqua!” he screamed. “ _Aqua_!”

He ran back towards the prison, heart beating so fast that it _hurt_. But as the fog began to close in, he knew he wouldn’t find her.

Silent Hill wouldn’t let him.


	23. Chapter 23

She wasn’t sure how she had crawled away from the site, but she had. Aqua lay curled up in a narrow alcove, clutching her right side in a vain attempt to stop the blood. That entire side of her was red, dripping onto the hissing snow, and the bleeding still showed no signs of stopping.

Terra . . . Terra had . . . she was still in shock. She was too stunned, too weak and tired to feel any emotion towards her ordeal, even fear at what appeared to be her approaching death. The voice in her mind took care of that part, as it cursed and raved about the recent turn of events. In a morbid way, she almost found it funny. It hurt to laugh though, so she quickly reminded herself that this was her death they were talking about, and then the humour went away.

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Was this really the end? She thought about Terra, about how he had reduced her to this state, and yet, could only feel disappointed that she never got to tell him she was sorry. She hadn’t meant to snap at him and drive him off before. Actually, she had no idea why she did that at all. That memory was blurry, like a half-forgotten dream. All she knew was that she would depart this world with her best friend still believing that she hated him.

Her brow scrunched. Wasn’t there another person she was friends with?

Her hand dropped as she grew too tired to hold it up. Unobstructed, the blood flowed freely. The snow around her had long since melted and red slush made up the border. With a whimper, she closed her eyes and waited.

Steps. They echoed in her head long after they stopped. She sensed someone nearby, watching her. It didn’t frighten her as much as it should – didn’t frighten her at all, actually – and she focused on keeping herself breathing.

A hand brushed her bangs away from her eyes. She frowned at the contact, but did nothing. Really, there was nothing she could do even if she had wanted to. She was dying, helpless.

She almost wished the monsters would come and finished what Terra began.

 “Aqua . . .” The voice that spoke her name was soft, drifting through the air like a summer’s breeze. Her mind responded, part of her urging her towards it. The voice in her mind agreed with that sentiment, but another part of her balked, wanting desperately to flee.

She lay there as the hand ghosted down her face and down to the hole in her side. The touch was warm and cold at the same time, one of the oddest sensations she’d ever felt. Weakly, she opened her eyes, struggling to focus on the dark form in front of her. She wasn’t sure whether it was dark or her eyes weren’t working properly, but she couldn’t make out a face. The light illuminated the person from behind so that their features were shadowed, but the outline was blinding. What she could make out was a small figure with spiky hair. That triggered something. Didn’t she know someone like that?

She closed her eyes, thinking hard. It hadn’t just been her and Terra, had it? There was another, this boy in front of her, and his name began with a V.

She could think of no one, but the voice in her mind offered a name.

_Vanitas?_

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” the boy said, and this time, she could identify him as Vanitas. “Damn it, Terra!”

“Vanitas?”

He shushed her and his hand, covered in blood, moved away from her side and stroked her hair. He shuffled in closer, his other arm sliding underneath her arm and raising her to a sitting position. She fell back against a wall, aware of the dim thumping of her heartbeat in her ears.

“Shh . . .” He tugged on her gently, guiding her so that she was leaning entirely on him for support. “It’s okay. I’ll fix this.”

Vanitas pushed her back a little, and raised her chin so that she stared into his golden eyes.

A heavy sheet fell over her consciousness, threatening to crush it. Blinking, she tried to shake it off, but the force had gripped her mind tight and was dragging it under. Through this, Vanitas continued to hold her. He had slipped behind her now, so that she lay against his chest. One of his arms fell over her shoulder and around her neck in a loose headlock. The other was in her hair.

He whispered into her ear, “I’ll take care of you.”

She felt darkness radiating from him, and immediately, tried to move away. But Vanitas had a secure grip on her, and even if she hadn’t been so weakened, he was incredibly strong. He stopped her easily, nearly choking her as he held on tight. The darkness built, numbing the places it touched, oozing down her back and around her body.

This time, she could see the darkness. It was like being deep under water, with the pressure of the liquid coming at all sides. Dreamily, she tried to swim, to brush the darkness away, but her hands passed straight through.

This was wrong; the darkness shouldn’t be here. Aqua’s light, what little remained of it, rallied, trying to drive its rival away. But there was so much darkness, her light was already so broken, and the darkness only shied away for a second before trampling it.

“That’s it,” Vanitas crooned, like a mother talking to her child, “just relax. Trust me.”

_It’s okay_ , said the voice in her mind. _Trust him_.

And despite herself, she listened.

Vanitas chuckled. With one hand, he guided the darkness towards the hole in her side. Most of it wrapped around her like a liquid bandage, holding everything in. The rest latched onto the edges of her skin, pulling it inwards, and with a scrunching of his brow, Vanitas cast his spell.

It seemed, at first, that it would work without consequence. The darkness, not accustomed to this sort of task, healed her surely, but slowly. Vanitas clucked his tongue, continuing to guide his magic. Aqua could feel the darkness around her, but her weak protests were waved away as the voice in her mind lulled her into sleep.

Then there was sudden resistance. She could feel the darkness straining against a wall, and the harder it pushed, the more the wall pushed back. She heard Vanitas curse, and then a sudden surge of darkness pounded against the wall and it gave.

And through the cracks, light poured out.

Vanitas howled in pain. The darkness retreated and flew back to him like a cowering dog hiding behind its master. His scream startled Aqua into full consciousness for a few brief seconds, but then her illness, the voice in her mind, and Vanitas’s cool, soothing voice reclaimed her. She closed her eyes, settling back into her lifeless state.

Vanitas continued to hold her, stroking her hair, and bit by bit, the world was lost to her.

When he spoke again, she was in so deep that she couldn’t open her eyes.

“You need to let go of your light,” Vanitas urged, “it’s fighting against me. I can’t heal you while it’s still there.”

Her light? That was what made her what she was. She shook her head, gasping when the numbness lifted and the full pain of her injuries slammed into her.

_If you don’t_ , the voice in her mind warned, _you will die_.

She shook her head. A murmur from Vanitas, and then she was screaming and arching in pain. It was horrible, like someone was peeling the flesh from her bones. Instinctively, she tried to call up her magic, which – without her keyblade to channel it – failed. She thought she could feel the wound festering, relived the agony as Terra’s keyblade ripped through her. Through all of this, Vanitas just watched.

When she settled down again, simply became too exhausted to react, he tried again. “Let go of the light.”

The pain was unbearable. She just wanted it to go away. But if she turned her back to the light, then what would become of her?

_If you die, then so will they_.

With that final declaration, she was swayed. Whatever happened, she had to protect her friends, even at this cost . . .

And she wanted the pain to go away.

“H-how?” she whispered.

Resuming his stroking of her hair, Vanitas released his lock around her neck, grabbed her wrist with his other hand, and directed her hand to her pocket. It took her a moment to react when her fingertips found the smooth glass, but then she curled her hand close around the Wayfinder, and let Vanitas bring it and her hand up to her chest.

“Break it,” Vanitas said, “smash it, and be free.”

In her dazed, pained state, it was hard to convey how terrifying that suggestion was. She resorted to whimpering, wrenching her wrist out of his grasp. Now that Rainfell was gone, it was the most important thing she had.

_You can make another one,_ the voice said. _Is it worth dying for?_

She didn’t know. Once, she would have agreed that she could remake it, and that it was not worth her life. Now, though, she wasn’t sure if she would be able to summon the magic for another one.

“It’s for the best,” Vanitas said. “Trust me.”

She did. Despite all the creepy encounters she had with him before, a part of her still trusted him and she couldn’t explain why. He brushed her bangs out of her eyes again, and pushed her off of him.

“Look at me, Aqua.”

She did. She turned and looked clearly at Vanitas’s face for the first time. She was surprised by how young he looked; he still had the rounded face of adolescence, however, his face was sharpened from experiences and agony that weren’t at all appropriate for his age. Her heart ached with sympathy, and sensing this, Vanitas repeated his earlier request.

She refused.

His fingers slid under her chin again and lifted it. His golden gaze burning into hers, he slowly leaned forwards.

“You seem familiar,” Aqua croaked.

Vanitas broke out into a giddy smile. “I knew you remembered me!”

His yellow eyes still holding her gaze, his forehead touched hers. At once, a flurry of memories assaulted her.

_She and Terra sitting by the bedside of a comatose Ven as they waited to see if the latest addition to their family would awake._

_Her sitting alone with Ven as he slowly readjusted to being able to move again._

  _Introducing Ven to the world piece by piece, watching as some emotion finally stirred in those eyes._

“Ven . . .” she whispered, guilty tears welling in her eyes as she realized that she had _forgotten_ him.

_Ven summoning his keyblade for the first time, and accidentally destroying one of the Master’s paintings._

_Ven sniffling as he talked Terra into buying the three of them ice cream – and then sharing a conspiring grin with her when Terra left to do so._

_Ven waking from a bout of sleepwalking and her confusion when his eyes were yellow instead of blue._

_Reflecting sadly as Ven slowly left her and gravitated towards Terra. Seeing how much Ven looked up to the male apprentice made her feel a little lonely, but if that was what Ven needed, then it was okay. . ._

Locked inside her own mind, she didn’t notice when Vanitas adopted Ven’s voice and whispered into her ear, “Smash it.”

_. . . She only wanted him to be happy._

The Wayfinder shattered into a thousand pieces.

The sound snapped her out of her trance. What had she done?

No, what had he _made_ her do?

She pulled away from Vanitas, and he was quick to pounce. Forcing her to the ground, he crawled on top, using his weight to pin her. She struggled, but Terra’s attack had left her so weak, and he was so strong. Vanitas trapped her easily, and a black mist rose from him as he beckoned the darkness. This time, there was no resistance against his spell, and his magic did its job well; flesh knit together, bones repaired, and her pain vanished, leaving her with nary a scar. But it didn’t end there, he was still summoning more darkness. Like water flowing out of a broken dam, it poured out of him in a torrent, leeching into her.

The entire time, he was whispering in her ear, trying to calm her down. Instead, she only grew more frantic as it became apparent exactly what he was doing to her. She resorted to tooth and nail, anything to make him let go. Vanitas bore it all, his expression never changing as the darkness shredded her defenses and seeped into her soul.

“Stop, please!” she begged.

Vanitas shushed her and wiped the tears from her face. “It will all be over soon.”

With those last words, the darkness gathered around her heart and soul, and _squeezed_. 

* * *

The sirens wailed.

Ven immediately summoned Wayward Wind, standing back to back with Ansem, who had unsheathed his own sword. Upon seeing that the older man knew what the sirens meant, Ven gave him a sorry smile, which was returned.

The world began to change. The road split apart forming a crevice that, presuming they had a running start, both of them would be able to jump – assuming they had the courage. On the sides of the crevice, he could see orange light from the fire below. It honestly looked like a hole to hell.

That same orange light was in the sky, outlining the black clouds so that it looked like they were seeing a giant inferno. Maybe they were. It was hard to tell what was and wasn’t a lie here.

Though at first glance, it still seemed to be snowing, but after it smudged his fingers, Ven knew that it was actually ash. Considering the theme that seemed to be developing here, he wasn’t surprised. Even now, the buildings around them were turning black, iron bars slamming down in their windows. There was a sense of the buildings sagging, of a stench of charcoal infiltrating his lungs.

“This is different,” Ansem remarked.

“Not for me,” Ven said.

At once, he began to wonder: was Ansem being pulled into his dark world? Would he even be going through this at all if he wasn’t with Ven?

Ansem shook him, breaking him out of that line of thought. “Look alive,” he said, “there’s no telling what awaits us.”

Ven nodded, and the two waited as the rest of the transformation took place. When it was over, they stood in a broken husk of a town. Smoking piles of debris blocked the doors, and there was no telling what had happened to anyone still inside. Most of the glass in the windows had shattered, and the shards lay all over the street. However, access was still blocked by the iron bars, which flared hot when Ven poked them.

“Come,” Ansem said, “we should leave this place.”

They kept their weapons out, but nothing came to greet them. Somehow, Ven knew it would be that way. The air was too clear, the world too silent for the monsters to be coming. He wondered then what the town’s aim this time was.

And suddenly, they weren’t alone. Ansem held his sword out in front as he observed the still figure. “Who goes there?” he barked.

The figure didn’t move. Head bowed, it continued to stand there.

Ven approached. “Hello?”

“Ventus, wait!”

Ansem reached for him, but Ven shrugged his hand off. As he got closer, he recognized that shadow, and broke into a wide, toothy grin.

“Aqua!”

Aqua didn’t stir upon hearing her name, and Ansem’s brow furrowed. The latter walked towards her slowly as Ven started to run. Ven skidded to a stop right in front of her, frowning when she failed to look at him.

“Aqua?” He shook her shoulder. “It’s me.”

No reaction. Ven sighed, figuring that she was too sick to figure out what was going on. Wait, he had the aglaophotis, didn’t he? He could use it right now and cure her.

“Hold on, I got this.” He looked down and was groping inside his pocket when Aqua finally moved. Curious, he looked up, expecting to see her weary, but relieved, expression.

Instead, he got an emotionless mask.

And yellow eyes.

It all happened so quickly. Ven was still trying to wrap his mind around the colour change when Ansem’s sword sliced down in front of him, clanking against Aqua’s keyblade.

“Stay back!” Ansem shouted, shoving Ven behind him. It was only when he saw the tip of Aqua’s keyblade in the ground that he realized that she had tried to stab him, to _hurt_ him.

Wait, her _keyblade?_

“Aqua?”

It was her, and yet it wasn’t. It wasn’t just her eyes that changed, but her keyblade as well (how had she got it back?). The keyblade she held now was the same shape, the same size, but the colours were all messed up. Rainfell had been based around blue and silver; this one was based upon purple and black.

He rubbed his eyes. This had to be an illusion. Aqua wasn’t here; this was just some shadow that looked like her.

But his heart insisted otherwise.

“Aqua,” he choked, reaching for her, “what are you doing?”

Her yellow eyes were empty, soulless.

Ven grabbed his head as static filled his ears. There were other noises too: clanging metal, rushing water, a mass of voices scrambling to be heard. Then one voice, _Aqua’s_ voice, cut through them all.

_“Ven, run!”_

Again, it was Ansem who sprung to his rescue. With a grunt, he deflected Aqua’s keyblade, locking his weapons with hers and wrenching it out of her hands. Aqua didn’t even hesitate before calling it back to her, and Ansem jumped in surprise as the corrupted Rainfell returned.

Her next attack returned to her typical strategy of magic, but that, too, had changed. The shockwave she sent out was flecked with darkness at the edges, even though it was a light-based spell. Having been so close when she cast it, it was almost impossible to dodge. Still, Ven tried, diving to the ground. The spell washed over him, and surprisingly, it hurt little.

Then he realized that was because Aqua’s light was so weak.

“Aqua, snap out of it!” he cried.

All he succeeded in doing was drawing Aqua’s attention. She abandoned the fallen Ansem, who was still struggling to stand after her last attack, and her keyblade glowed with a black light as she slashed at Ven’s side. He slipped out of the way, summoning a barrier between them. Aqua slammed her keyblade against it, letting it rest there as she stared in confusion. That only lasted a second though, as she changed to using Thunder spells to bypass the barrier completely.

The air crackled with her spells, and the world was lost in bolts of blinding light. Even with his speed, it was all he could do to dodge them. He knew that sooner or later, one of them would meet its mark. Hoping to bait Aqua into using her keyblade instead, he dropped the magical barrier, leaving the path clear.

Unfortunately, he had assumed she would have to choose. He never considered that she might compromise.

In the flashing lights of the Thunder spells, he didn’t see her sneaking up on him. Instead, he leapt right back into her, and stars exploded in his vision as her keyblade hit him across the head. He fell to the ground and not a second passed before she electrocuted him with another spell.

She pointed her keyblade at his head, ready to fire again, when Ansem lunged out of nowhere. Head lowered like a charging bull, he slammed into her and they tumbled to the ground. Ansem tried to keep her there, but that only lasted a moment before he was flung away. Lying on his back, Ansem cried out as what seemed to be arcs of electricity danced over his skin. Ven took a step towards him, but was stopped by a wall of fire.

The reflection of the flames in her yellow eyes was like looking into hell. There was nothing hidden from him now, and he could see exactly how much she had changed. Aqua had always had a gentle, motherly air to her; now, there was no trace of that side of her. She looked dead where she stood, a slave to the darkness that held her hostage.

“Aqua, please, it’s me!”

Nothing, not even a flicker of recognition. Aqua waved her keyblade, and the fire etched out a circle around them. Ven swallowed, forcing himself to keep his head up as he met his friend’s possessed stare.

“Aqua, you have to fight this!” He leapt back as a Fire spell nearly singed him. “Don’t you remember? It’s me, Ventus.”

Her face twitched, but for the most part, she didn’t react. However, seeing that tiny change gave him hope, and he continued his pleading anew.

“Me, you and Terra,” he said, “we’re best friends! We were all sent here to look for Master Xehanort, but then we got separated, remember? We were looking for Terra after he ran off!”

She was close, and he was getting worried. “Remember, Aqua, please!”

She stopped moving, and something blue flickered in those eyes.

“V-Ven . . .” Her speech was hoarse and rusty, as if she had not spoken for a long time.

The static started up in his head again. It bugged him, but it was easy to deal with. Aqua twitched violently, nearly having a seizure as Ven came closer.

“Aqua . . .”

The static broke, and he heard Aqua’s voice in his head again.

_“Ven, no!”_

He was a distracted for just a second, and that was all the time the force possessing Aqua needed.


	24. Chapter 24

Throughout all of history, he didn’t think there was anyone who was as much a failure as he was.

Slumped on the ground, Terra stared blankly into space. The memory of striking down Aqua kept replaying in his mind, grainy and unfocused, yet still somehow vivid. Somehow, he had gone from protecting his friends to hurting them, and through that, tearing apart his own heart.

When the sirens came, he didn’t bother to move. Let the world change; he was already in hell. He watched with mild interest as flames engulfed the town, vaguely noting that this didn’t happen last time. Last time he had seen fire was when he went after Ven.

A twinge in his mind begged him to go find the youngest apprentice. Terra refused, staying where he was. If Aqua was anything to go by, Ven was better off without him. Ven would find her, or vice-versa, and then Aqua would tell him what had happened and they would depart this world. They would get their happy ending.

And he? He would fade into the darkness, just as a monster should.

Closing his eyes, he crossed his legs and waited.

To a passerby, it would have looked like he was meditating. Indeed, Terra felt oddly calm. Maybe it was due to that sense of inevitability. Whatever it was, he was thankful for it.

His great plan was interrupted by someone he hadn’t expected. Opening his eyes, he saw a man staring down at him. The man looked horrible; the side of his face was singed and covered in sweat, his legs were shaking, and his clothes were torn. It looked like he had run into an entire nest of monsters.

“You, boy, are you Terra?”

Startled, Terra nodded.

Still panting, the stranger closed his eyes. “My name is Ansem. Thank goodness I have found you.”

Terra shrugged and returned to his meditation.

“Don’t fall asleep on me now!” Ansem snarled, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

Terra let out a mirthless snort. “Trust me, Ansem, you don’t want me around.”

Ansem frowned, possibly surprised by his answer. “It is not so much what I desire as it is what your friends need.”

“My friends,” he spat,” are better off without me!”

It was then that Ansem seemed to understand what was going on, and he lowered his voice, speaking gently. “Terra, they are in trouble.”

Terra hesitated. Of course they were; they were in trouble as long as they were in this town. But what exactly was Ansem referring to when he said that?

“Right now?” Terra croaked.

Ansem nodded. “They need your help.”

Terra sighed. He may make pretty promises and vows, but the truth was that he had always been a sucker for his friends.

“Lead the way,” he said.

“I would,” Ansem said, “if I knew where.”

“You don’t even know where they are,” Terra repeated flatly. Luckily, there was a solution for that.

Holding the Wayfinder against his heart, he whispered, “Take me to her.”

The Wayfinder reacted, but not in the way he wanted. Its tug was random, going in every direction at once. There was no sense to it, unless Aqua had suddenly turned into the air. Maybe it didn’t work in the dark world.

He shook the Wayfinder, scowling. If it didn’t work here, then Naminé should have told him that. Unless, of course, it meant Aqua wasn’t in this world – which in that case, was perfectly fine.

“What is that?” Ansem asked.

“My Wayfinder. It should lead me to my friends, but it doesn’t seem to be working,” Terra said.

“Lead you to your friends?” Ansem reached out to touch it, but Terra turned and kept it out of his reach, unwilling to let any stranger’s hand taint it. “How?”

Terra shrugged. “Magic. Naminé did it for me.”

Ansem’s laugh was more like a bark. “That devil, you trust it?”

“Hey!” he cried, naturally reacting to Ansem’s unfounded accusation. “Naminé’s done nothing but help.”

“Is that what you think?” Ansem scoffed, sounding smug. “I will tell you what she has done; she has delivered you to the jaws of darkness, Terra.”

“Look, you obviously have no idea what you’re talking about.” Terra drew himself up, staring down at the older man. “If you’re not going to help me, then leave!”

A short silence passed. Then, awkwardly, Ansem said, “Ven said that you had my sweater.”

“Oh. Sorry, lost it.”

“No need to apologize,” Ansem said. “I hated it.”

The silence fell upon them again. Terra rubbed the back of his neck, kicking at the ground as he wondered what to stay. It was clear that Ansem did not intend to leave, and truthfully, Terra was glad for that; this town was safer when you had more people.

In a final test, Terra firmly said, “I’m going to Brookhaven to talk to Naminé. You?”

A muscle in Ansem’s jaw jumped, but he held his tongue. “I will accompany you.”

Terra nodded, pleased that at least one plan hadn’t blown up in his face.

They wouldn’t have found it if Xion hadn’t shown up. One look at her face, and Terra knew that everything Ansem had told him had been true – bar the part about Naminé. Xion looked absolutely devastated, not even reacting when Ansem spat bile at her. Her mood seemed to strike Ansem, who ceased to insult her after his initial attempt roused no response. Instead, Ansem walked stonily behind her, carefully keeping his face blank.

Or maybe, it was Xion’s state that had silenced him. Terra wasn’t sure what had happened, but she couldn’t walk properly. Instead, she leaned on him for support, nearly limp. Her cloak was torn in various places, and could distinctly make out two crudely-healed wounds on her back where what appeared to be giant fangs had punctured her.

But despite how badly injured she was, Terra made no efforts to hide his growing panic.

“Are they alive?” he asked. “At least tell me they’re alive!”

“They are,” Xion confirmed, “but it’s really bad.”

She offered little else, but what she did offer, Terra clung to like a drowning man would to a plank of wood. As long as they were alive, things were fine. He would rescue them, throw them bodily out of this world, and then return to his self-imposed exile.

He only prayed that the reason they were in trouble was something that he hadn’t caused.

Strangely enough, Brookhaven hadn’t changed. The hospital had always been rundown, but compared to the heaps of charcoal around it, it was a palace for the gods. He dismissed his keyblade as they entered Brookhaven, trusting Naminé despite whatever Ansem may say. Even though the man was behind him, Terra could feel his hatred as the small blonde girl came into view. It was funny, almost, that Ansem felt so threatened by such a tiny creature. Almost.

“What’s going on?” Terra demanded.

Quietly, Naminé said, “The darkness has them.”

Next to him, Xion shut her eyes. Ansem nodded thoughtfully, for once not dismissing Naminé’s words. Terra was still wondering what the heck was going on.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“He’s taken control of Aqua,” Naminé said to Terra’s horror. “She’s far too weak to resist him, so he used her to capture Ventus.”

“He’s taken control of her?” He shook his head and stepped closer. “ _Who_ , Naminé?”

“The God.” She bit her lip, looking around as if she expected something to jump out at her. “I can’t say his name.”

Terra stayed in control just long enough to walk over to a wall. Then he drove his fist into it with all his might, staring at the blood that ran down his knuckles afterwards. Too weak to resist him? Of course she would be after he had nearly killed her. It was just as he feared; once again, his overzealous reactions had hurt one of his friends.

“Where are they now?” His voice was deceptively soft when compared to the torrent of emotions he felt.

“Back where it all began: at the church.”

He nodded, not looking at anyone. “What does he want with them?”

“Ventus’s light. He craves it.” Naminé said that with a cadence that made him sick.

Terra clenched his fists; if this god was after light, then it explained why he was currently in the clear. Not that he hadn’t had his own share of problems. As if reminding him, darkness swirled around his fist. “And Aqua?” he said.

“He wants _her_ ,” Naminé said, “just like he wants _you_.”

At the beginning of Naminé’s sentence, Terra had been disgusted to hear that someone could even think of Aqua like that. Aqua was light, innocent, an angel in pure white clothing that no one had the right to tarnish. He was fully prepared to tear this god apart limb by limb when the second part of the sentence hit him. This god wanted _him_? If that was true, then hopefully it didn’t want Aqua for _that_ reason. But then, why else? Terra couldn’t think of much that he and Aqua had in common, save for their keyblades.

“Why?” he asked.

Naminé’s big blue eyes were wide, and reminded him of Ven. Truly, the girl must have hated what she had to say next.

“Because,” she said, “he thinks you’re his _friends_.”

Friends? Terra was at a loss for words. He hadn’t even met this guy, how could he consider them friends?

_Friends don’t take over each other’s minds,_ he fumed.

He repeated his earlier question. “Naminé, who are you talking about?”

She shut her eyes, shaking her head. “I can’t . . .”

He stepped away from the wall. Naminé flinched when he approached, probably expecting her to hit him. Instead, he crouched down so they were at eyelevel and put a hand on Naminé’s shoulder.

“He already has my friends,” Terra said quietly. “What else can he do to me?”

Naminé leaned over and whispered into his ear. “His name,” she paused there, “is Vanitas.”

The lights went out.

Xion shrieked, and Terra was aware of a flurry of movement around him. A hand latched onto his wrist, too small and shaky, he realized just in time, to be a monster. He felt backwards for the wall, collapsing against it, and bringing with him the one who had grabbed him. It had to be one of the girls; she was too small to be Ansem. With his hand, he mapped out her arm, then her shoulder, and brought her in close, ready to play his role as the protector. With his other hand, he held Earthshaker, and he called out for the others, willing them to come to him.

Something slammed against a wall. He knew without seeing that it came from the outside. His eyes flickered yellow, then blue, then stayed on yellow, and suddenly, they were able to pierce the darkness of the hall. Ansem was standing a few feet away to his left, sword out and looking as though he would slice through anyone that came near. Xion was the one holding his hand, Naminé was pressed into the wall further down to his right, and he pulled Xion along as he went to her.

There was scratching at the doors to the hospital. Through the slit of light at the bottom, Terra could see the shadows of things lingering at the entrance. The girls curled into his side as the doors rattled, and Terra sucked in a deep breath, ready to spring to the rescue.

He _felt_ something slam into the wall behind him. The girls gasped and Terra shoved them away, terrified that the stone would split and some monster would rush through the crack. However, though the monster slammed against the wall a few more times, it held. There were a few moments of relief, and then they had their hands over their ears as a horrible screeching filled the air.

It was at a window. Terra approached warily. He couldn’t see much of the monsters, only their clawed hands as they carved words into the glass. He watched, mesmerized, fear suddenly gone. In great, curved letters, the monsters wrote his name. They wrote it again and again, sideways, upside-down and any way you could think of, filling up every inch of space. And in his mind, Terra heard a voice.

_Come to the church, Terra. Come to me._

He nodded to the invisible speaker, and walked down the hall like a robot. Xion and Naminé’s cries went unheard, and when he startled Ansem and the man swung, Terra blocked the sword with Earthshaker and shoved him aside.

_We’re waiting for you._

His hand was on the door when he felt the warmth of his Wayfinder in his pocket. The heat burned away the spell that had been cast over him, and he scrambled back as if the door had bit him. In his mind, he heard what sounded like a growl, and there was the sense of something slithering away.

The lights flickered back on.

Ashamed, Terra turned away from the door, refusing to look at anyone. What had he been about to do? Not only would he have let the monsters in, but he had been ready to hand himself over. Yet again, he held the Wayfinder against his chest and thanked Naminé in his head.

Aiming to get things back on track, he said, “I’m certain I’ve never met anyone by that name before. There’s no way we’re friends.”

“But you are,” Naminé insisted, “your hearts are connected.”

At this, Terra actually laughed. “I think you have the wrong person.”

“I don’t!”

He and Naminé continued to argue. Xion watched, her eyes growing wider, until she finally shouted, “He’s Ven!”

Silence.

“What?” Terra growled.

“Ven and Vanitas, they came from the same heart,” Xion said, walking towards him. “And you’re connected to Vanitas, because. . .” She trailed off, touching Terra’s Wayfinder.

Terra backed away, cradling the Wayfinder. “You’re saying that _Ven’s_ doing this?”

“A part of him,” Xion said quietly.

Ven . . . Ven was . . . it simply didn’t compute. Ven was the nicest kid he knew; Terra didn’t think Ven even knew how to be mean. How could a kid that chased butterflies and who ran through the castle screaming about shooting stars turn around and torture his best friends like this? It didn’t make any sense.

But why would they lie to him?

“Okay, stop explaining,” Terra ordered. “Just take me to them.”

* * *

The first thing he noticed was that his head hurt. The second thing was that his hands were tied behind his back.

Consciousness came to him slowly. Ven blinked sleepily, the world spinning as his eyes struggled to focus. It was hard to tell when they did though, as the fog blanked out much of the world and prevented him from getting his bearings. He did, however, figure out that he was moving backwards, which was odd since his legs didn’t seem to be moving.

In fact, they weren’t even touching the ground.

Even slung over her shoulder, Ven could recognize Aqua in an instant. She was moving steadily towards her unknown destination, not slowing no matter how much he squirmed. All his efforts to speak to her ended in the same result: silence. He had the eerie sense that it wasn’t Aqua he was speaking to, but someone who simply didn’t care.

He heard a metal gate opening, and saw it when it swung shut again. Slowly, graves glided into his vision, and he understood they were back at the church. The question was why Aqua (or rather, the thing possessing her) would bring them back here.

“So, you caught the puppy?”

He twisted, knowing that voice. Sure enough, he caught a glimpse of Xigbar’s smirking face, and then more than a glimpse as Aqua handed him over. Xigbar carelessly tossed Ven over his shoulder, ignoring his squawk.

“Well, let’s not keep the Boss waiting.”

For the first time since he had woken up, he saw Aqua, but not _her_. He couldn’t find any trace of the real Aqua, only the coldness of her possessor. Like a dog, she followed obediently behind Xigbar, not reacting to any of Ven’s pleading stares.

The church doors opened, and they walked into the light.

Aside from Xigbar, there were five other cloaked men there. One, the man Xigbar passed him off to, he remembered as Xemnas. He glared hatefully at the man, who only chuckled before slinging Ven over his own shoulder. Then began the short journey to the altar, where Ven was able to study the others. He saw Vexen again, whose green eyes sparkled with curiosity. Next to him was Lexaeus, whose face held something close to sympathy. The large man stood partially in front of someone that Ven had never seen before, as if shielding him. This boy was the shortest of the bunch, and appeared to be the youngest. Grey hair covered most of his face, so that all Ven could make out was one blue eye.

The last member of The Order to greet him was a battered Xaldin, who nodded as part of the floor drew back and revealed a hidden staircase. Here, Xemnas set Ven down. When Xemnas turned his back to address The Order, Ven tried to crawl away. However, Aqua slammed her corrupted keyblade down in a silent order to stay where he was.

“My friends,” Xemnas said, “now we shall witness the birth of a new era. By this time tomorrow, the god of darkness will finally be complete, and with his power shall come ours. His influence will transcend and connect all worlds, binding them to his power, and we shall take our place as masters of the universe.”

“Hear, hear!” Xigbar hooted, looking as though he was having the time of his life. Xaldin shared a similar cruel smile, his dark eyes shining with glee.

“There will be no borders that daunt us, no force that can withstand our might!” Xemnas thundered. “Knowledge, power, it will all be ours.”

Xemnas basked in the cheers. The bloodthirstiness of the cries terrified Ven, who habitually crept closer to Aqua. He could see that Xigbar and Xaldin were completely on board with this plan, and that Vexen had been won over by the last tidbit about knowledge. Lexaeus and the young boy though, they were hard to read.

Wanting someone to do something, Ven shouted, “You can’t!”

Xemnas looked down at his restrained prisoner and smiled. “But I will,” he said softly, “and you cannot stop me. Go, it is time.”

Aqua said nothing, but turned and walked over to the formerly hidden stairs. Ven tried to grab her, but she shook him off and made her way down to the depths of the church. To Ven, it looked as though she was descending into a bottomless pit, never to return.

“Terra will stop you,” Ven said.

“Terra,” Xemnas replied, “will join Aqua in servitude.”

Ven cringed; no, not his friends . . . “You’ll be just a servant, too!” Ven cried, searching for any way to turn the tables.

Xemnas laughed hollowly. “That is not true. Our God has little interest in managing the worlds. All he cares for is judgement and punishment. No, it will fall upon me to take up the mantle of king while our God has his fun. And you?” He forced Ven to his feet. “You will become nothing more than a memory.”

Xemnas had enough mercy to slice through the ropes tying Ven’s wrists together, but hardly a moment passed between that and Xemnas pushing him down the stairs.

The floor slid back into place, trapping Aqua and him in the dark.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To make things clear, everything between the first and last scene is a flashback

Now the pieces were falling into place.

Vanitas floated above his Station of Awakening, eyes closed peacefully. After so many long days of planning and pain, it was coming to an end. He would be one with Ventus again, complete, and Aqua and Terra would be his.

He opened his eyes to see Ventus staring up at him. His lighter half still didn’t understand what was going on. It irked him how Ventus could be so ignorant while Vanitas knew everything. But it didn’t matter. Soon, Ventus would know nothing, would _be_ nothing.

Ventus was in a fighting stance, and Vanitas smirked. Didn’t Ventus get it? He was in Vanitas’s domain now, and had no power here. With a snap of his fingers, the darkness answered his thoughts and launched at Ventus, wrapping around his arms and anchoring them to the ground. The apprentice pulled against his bonds, glaring.

Vanitas laughed and lowered himself to the ground, walking over to Ventus. He passed Aqua along the way, and stopped to appraise his work. Her mind was still there – he never had any intention of erasing it – but for all intents and purposes, she was no different than the monsters. That would be fixed once he became one with Ventus. He would release enough of her mind that she could function independently, but he would use connective magic, the same one Aqua had initiated with her Wayfinders, to bind Terra and her to himself.

And he would never be alone again.

He could hear Ventus snarl as he continued to stare at Aqua. He paid the irate boy little mind; Ventus had already taken so much from him, he didn’t deserve any sympathy. Upon hearing his distress though, Aqua started to fight again, straining like a dog fighting to get free from her leash. With a thought, he drowned her mind in darkness, holding her under until she stopped squirming.

He smiled at their naivety. Aqua and Ventus barely understood what was going on. Terra had a better idea, being more in tune with the darkness, but he didn’t understand either. How could he? Aqua and Terra, they were _children_ compared to him. They only had a few years, through which they had been coddled by their Master. Vanitas was younger still, but through his powers and the powers of this town, he had the memories of hundreds of years. He could see into the hearts of any that crossed into Silent Hill, breathe life into the darkest of memories. He was the shepherd at the head of his flock, delivering the sheep to the butcher as he deemed fit.

So, it didn’t bother him that Aqua and Terra were against his plans. Children didn’t know what was best for them.

He approached Ventus, who looked up at him with fear. With a sneer, he summoned Void Gear and held it high, making sure Ventus could see just how sharp it was. One quick flick of his wrist, and the blond apprentice lay crumpled on the ground, bleeding.

Aqua was awake again, but she knew better than to pit her will against his. Instead, he could feel her searching for more underhanded methods, some loophole in his scheme.

He could feel her reaching out for her friends.

He laughed merrily. She still didn’t get it! She, Ventus and Terra, they were all convinced that _friendship_ would save them.

But it wouldn’t, because that’s what Vanitas was fighting for too . . .

* * *

“Get up,” Master Xehanort told him.

Vanitas didn’t respond, still trying to get used to his new face. It felt so strange to have skin after spending so long as a being of darkness. He didn’t like the way bones and skin restricted his movement, although he knew that it made him stronger.

“I said get up!”

Groaning, Vanitas did so, and was rewarded by a keyblade in his gut. He snarled, and was immediately punished for his insolence like an animal. By the end, he was curled up on the ground, blood filling his mouth and his lungs screaming for air.

“You are weak,” Xehanort said. “No different than the one you describe yourself as superior to.”

He flinched at the reminder of his lighter half. Ventus had been his only friend, but about a week ago, Vanitas had admitted that he couldn’t completely surpass his urges to hurt the boy, and Xehanort had taken him away. He didn’t understand why; wasn’t it a good thing he had admitted his shortcomings? Xehanort was supposed to help him, not hurt him.

But Xehanort didn’t, and Vanitas slept alone, knees held against his chest for warmth.

* * *

He woke in a very strange place. He was in a soft bed, with gentle rays of sunlight entering through the window. His body moved without his consent, studying the room, vision disappearing for a millisecond as the eyes blinked. Although Vanitas couldn’t move, it didn’t bother him as much as it should, and he hung about, curious.

He wasn’t wearing his bodysuit. No, that was skin he saw, pale hands pushing back the covers. The eyes blinked again, focusing on the soft green walls and the scene outside. It was not a desert that he saw, but a sea of grass under a bright blue sky. He wanted desperately to run over and get a closer look, but he was not in charge of this body, and there was no way to communicate his desires to the host.

“You’re awake!”

The head turned, revealing a blue-haired girl standing in the doorway. Was she smiling at him? She couldn’t be; no one smiled that way at him anymore, not since he had separated from Ventus.

But it was this body that she smiled at, and his eyes that she stared into. The gaze was so intense, so warm, that for a moment, Vanitas forgot he was only an observer. He only remembered that when the arm failed to reach out for her.

“I was scared you would never wake up,” the girl said. His mind thrummed with excitement when she touched his shoulder, and he could _feel_ it. When she pulled away, he nearly cried, yearning to feel that touch again and know that this was occurring somewhere outside his head.

“Terra, Master, he’s awake!”

Xehanort? He retreated into himself with fear; Xehanort would be furious if he realized that Vanitas no longer had control over his own body. But Xehanort was not with the two people that entered, and he looked closely when it became apparent Xehanort wasn’t here.

The one who spoke first was the oldest, with black hair and a scar down his left cheek. Vanitas could see the respect the other two held for him, and wished that this body would straighten up a little.

“Ventus,” the man asked, “how are you feeling?”

Ventus? Why were they still calling him by that name? He was Vanitas now. He tried to open his mouth to say that, and then after that failed, finally understood what was going on. This was Ventus’s body he was in. Then this meant that somewhere, Ventus was experiencing this. He felt lonely, but then shook that off when a brown-haired boy spoke.

“Master, are you sure he’s awake?”

Going off the girl’s previous words, this must have been Terra who had spoken. The older man must have been the Master she was referring to, but what was her name?

“Ventus, can you hear me?”

 _Say something, idiot!_ Vanitas snarled in his head. As if Ventus had heard him, he nodded his head.

“See?” The girl cried. “He’s alive!”

Terra said, “It’s not like I said he was dead, Aqua.”

Aqua, so that was her name. Aqua, Terra and the Master, he mulled over this new information as the two kids argued playfully. The Master continued to study Ventus, likely puzzled by the lack of life in the boy. Yes, that was something Vanitas found puzzling as well. If he were in control, he would be off exploring or getting to know these people.

“Well, Ventus,” the Master said, “welcome to our home.”

 _Home_. Though Vanitas had no body, he could feel warmth where his heart should be. It amazed him that one simple word could do so much; up to now, his heart had felt icy cold. He thought that since his heart was only made of darkness, it could only feel that way. Now he knew better, and he wasn’t ever going to forget.

Terra ran up to him, peering into his face as if he was a brand-new puppy. “So, what was it like training under Master Xehanort? Is he as creepy as he looks?”

The Master quirked a brow (“Aqua thinks so, too!” Terra protested), but it was Aqua who interceded. She pulled Terra away, shushing him and saying, “He’s probably confused.”

In a manner of speaking he was - he had no idea how he was currently in Ventus’s head or why – but it was a confusion he would gladly deal with. He only wished that Ventus would do a bit more than sit there. At least his other half could do him the favour of looking around!

“Are you hungry, Ventus? There’s food in the kitchen . . .”

The rest of Aqua’s words were lost as the world began to blur. With his nonexistent hands, Vanitas tried to grab something, tried to anchor himself to this reality. But his efforts were in vain and little by little, the world faded to black.

Then, there was nothing.

* * *

He awoke on a desert floor, sand whipping across his helmet and tumbleweeds rolling in the distance. He opened and closed his hands, checking that this body was his, and sighed, not sure which scenario he liked best.

When he saw Xehanort waking up though, he knew.

From thereon out, his dreams were his life. He got to know them all: the girl that made sure he ate and gently brushed his hair, the boy who pulled him outside and introduced him to new and exciting games, the Master that welcomed him and gave him all the time he needed to get better. They were his family, and he cherished every moment.

But he had to wake up.

He lived for sleeping, to wake back in that world where he was loved. So, he threw himself into his training, working himself until he was exhausted. He wanted it to be that way, wanted to be able to sleep the second his head hit the ground. Xehanort never suspected that it was anything other than fear and obedience that drove him, and so, Vanitas was able to switch back and forth between heaven and hell.

But then the other him got better, and it was harder to pretend.

Before, Ventus had just been an emotionless corpse, as much an observer as Vanitas was. Then he got better, and Aqua and Terra began to change. They spoke of how adorable and happy he was, how much light was in his heart, used his other half’s _nickname_. And Vanitas wanted to rave and scream at them to stop calling him that, that his name was Vanitas, not Ventus or Ven. But they didn’t hear him, and every day, the proverbial distance between them grew.

Every day, he hated Ventus a little more for taking what had been his, even if they had never actually belonged to him.

* * *

As the distance between them grew, he craved Aqua and Terra’s friendship even more. It was like an addiction he couldn’t shake, and they featured in all of his waking dreams. Eventually, his will spilled over into Ventus, _overpowered_ Ventus, and he was in control. It only worked at night, when his lighter half’s mind was asleep, and then Vanitas could direct his movements. He still wasn’t in control of the body, per say, but he could nudge it into action with his thoughts.

“Ven?”

His mind froze up. He had been exploring the different rooms of the castle – he hadn’t meant to walk into Aqua’s room.

“Did you have another nightmare?” Aqua asked.

Figuring it was too late to simply walk away and pretend this never happened, he urged the body towards her. Aqua said nothing and gathered him into her arms, stroking his hair.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, “you’re safe.”

Vanitas didn’t know how to react at first, but he quickly decided it was best to do nothing and let her continue. She rocked him back and forth like a child, holding him close. Responding to Vanitas’s contentment, Ven’s body snuggled closer to her, and buried his head in her shoulder. Vanitas did nothing else as Aqua stroked his hair, and he lost himself completely in her love. This, truly, was paradise.

And it was with that thought that the seeds of obsession were planted.

* * *

Ventus must have been doing this on purpose.

Lately, Ventus had taken to following Terra around everywhere he went. It was always _‘Terra said this’_ and _‘Terra did that_ ’. It was enough to drive anyone nuts.

While Vanitas did like Terra and enjoyed his friendship, he was still irritated that Ventus always had to be around him. Why couldn’t he go hang out with Aqua for once? It was nothing personal, he simply preferred her. There was no doubt that she and Terra both loved Ventus (and by extension, Vanitas), but they went about showing it in different ways. Terra treated Ventus like a brother, with punches and games and actions that could be just as easily applied to a simple friendship. With Aqua though, there was no doubt that you were loved, and after a long day with Xehanort, that’s what Vanitas needed most.

It seemed though, that Ventus was determined to deprive him of that. Even in those cases where Aqua did get to express her motherly side, Ventus acted embarrassed and discouraged her. Vanitas didn’t understand; what was so awful about knowing you were loved? If it were him, he’d wring every drop out of those moments.

( _Sometimes, he thought he would make a better friend to them than Ventus did_ )

But whatever Ventus’s reasoning may be, Vanitas couldn’t ignore that it was having an effect. Aqua was treating Ventus more like a little brother or a friend now, and Vanitas hated it. She shouldn’t be changing for Ventus, especially since there was someone out there who liked her just the way she was.

But she kept changing, and although Vanitas threw a fit, there was nothing he could do to stop it. And as she kept changing, as she turned away from the Aqua hewanted, it only hurt more.

His heart screamed. He never expected that something would hear it.

* * *

“Don’t wander off,” Xehanort grunted. “This is a strange place.”

Vanitas looked around the foggy town with boredom. It didn’t seem all that impressive to him. Rather, the town appeared to be abandoned, with windows boarded up and deep cracks in the road. It was no surprise; with a name like Silent Hill, the place practically declared itself a ghost town.

The fog was thick around them, and he could only see shadows as his Master smashed through a door with his keyblade and stepped inside. Vanitas followed, his yellow eyes narrowing into slits as he adjusted to the light. He watched as Xehanort tore open the drawers of a desk and rummaged inside. When his search revealed nothing, Xehanort snarled and ripped the drawers out completely.

“The letter said it was here!” he growled.

Asking only for the sake of asking, Vanitas said, “Said what is here?”

“A journal,” Xehanort said, “from one of the few survivors of the Keyblade War. It may hold a secret to unlocking Kingdom Hearts.”

Vanitas shrugged. He kicked at the ground, the action stirring up a cloud of dust. “Why does it matter? You have me, don’t you?”

 “It never hurts to have an alternative.”

Vanitas scowled at the idea that he may be expendable. Without stopping to ask for permission, he walked outside, holding his hand out to catch the snowflakes. They melted quickly on his palm, becoming nothing more than dark specks on his suit.

“It appears,” he said conversationally, “that I am nothing more than a pawn, after all.”

A light wind sent a swirl of snow floating past him.

A voice spoke.

_But a pawn who may become a king._

The voice resonated through his very being, vibrating through the bonds of his molecules. It was here and everywhere, spoken by a million voices. There was no gender he could pick out, but the strangeness of that didn’t matter. Less than ten words and already, he was enthralled.

“Who are you?” he asked.

 _You know who I am_.

His heart reacted, the darkness inside reaching out to the voice. Helpless to resist, unwilling to resist, he walked away from his Master, following the pull of his heart. The voice, the _darkness_ urged him onwards, guiding him gently.

The doors to the church opened for him. It smelt of dust and mould and there were cobwebs in the corners. Yet there was something pristine about this place, untouched. He had a feeling that if it wanted to, the church could have been perfectly clean.

But it kind of was, he then noticed. Dust lined the floor, save for the aisle in which he stood. A clear path had been laid out for him, leading to the moonlit altar in the center of the room. As he walked towards it, the ground seemed to swallow the sound of his footsteps, so that all there was the steadily building buzz of anticipation.

On the altar was a single stand, and on that, a thick book. Gingerly, he reached out for it. He chickened out halfway and instead of opening the book, he stroked its spine and let his hand fall back to his side. Opening that book, it would be opening a door he couldn’t close again. How he knew that, he didn’t know. He just did.

The silence was deafening. Like a child looking to steal treats from the cookie jar, Vanitas slyly glanced around. His hand twitched at his side, and he curled it into a fist to stop the movement.

He knew he shouldn’t, but he wanted to open that book.

And everyone knew that when he had the opportunity, Vanitas did whatever he wanted.

Blank pages met him as he flung the cover open. A cloud of dust settled upon his helmet, clinging to his hand when he brushed it off.

“Empty,” he scoffed, feeling suddenly foolish for being so intrigued in the first place.

He slammed the cover in disappointment, and turned his eyes back to the doors. He had to get back before Xehanort noticed. The pain of Xehanort discovering Vanitas had disobeyed him wasn’t worth an empty book.

 _Not empty_. _Waiting_.

“Waiting . . .” he echoed. “For what?”

_For you to fill it._

The pages flew open and turned one after another, stopping in the middle of the book. These pages, unlike the rest, were filled. The paper was filled with dark, crowded faces wreathed by flames, all clambering to climb over and above each other, save for one figure. In the center of the two pages was the very same altar that he stood upon now. Only one person stood there. Him, glorious and free, the mightiest of them all.

_You can create beings from the hearts of others. I can see into the depths of their souls. Together, we would be God._

Darkness swirled around him, caressing him.

_Say the words, and become the god you were meant to be. Become one with the darkness._

“Xehanort . . .”

_Say the words, and you will be free of him forever._

Vanitas closed his eyes. “I’ll do it.”

With his permission, the darkness poured into his soul. He could feel it everywhere, sense it everywhere he looked. It was no longer the insentient force that everyone else wielded, but _alive_. It spoke to him, told him everything that went on in the town.

No, not the town. _His_ town. Vanitas had never been here before, but he suddenly knew every street, could suddenly tell apart the illusions from reality. He could feel every heart within the town’s borders.

And he could feel the monsters. With a thought, he delved into their memories, seeing who they used to be and how they had met their fate. The sheer amount of information almost overwhelmed him. Almost. Certainly, a normal person wouldn’t have been able to deal with it, but he had never been normal.

His body prickled, like someone had sunk a hook into his back and was trying to reel him in. He scowled. Xehanort must have discovered his absence, and was trying to summon him like he would the heartless. But Vanitas was no longer some mindless being with no goals of his own. He was the true master of the darkness.

_He calls you like a common dog. Let us be rid of him._

“Yes,” he hissed. With encouragement from the darkness, he dove into Xehanort’s mind, found that part of him that reached for the light; the part of Xehanort that knew how horrible his plans were, and felt guilty for it.

The sirens howled.

Xehanort looked up as he heard the sound of metal scraping against rock.

* * *

“Aqua . . .” he whispered as he slowly awoken. Another dreamless night. It seemed that as time passed, Ventus allowed Vanitas into his mind less and less. Though he hated to admit it, it terrified him. Would Aqua and Terra forget him? Surely, they must have noticed that sometimes, there was someone other than Ventus there.

He loathed his other half. Ventus was the weak one, the reason Xehanort had decided to separate them in the first place. And yet despite the fact that Vanitas was the one constantly struggling, that he was the one who had fought and sheltered Ventus’s lifeless being from the worst of Xehanort’s rage, Ventus got all the awards. As great as it was, Vanitas had never asked for all this power over darkness. All he had ever asked for were his friends, and Ventus had gone and stolen them from underneath his nose.

He growled. Ventus was the epitome of selfishness. Aqua and Terra deserved better.

* * *

With the town’s expansive memory and the darkness aiding him, Vanitas quickly adapted to his role as the master of Silent Hill. It wasn’t that hard; Silent Hill called those it wanted. All he had to do with every visitor was search their heart, mould their darkest secrets into something physical and judge. Sometimes, he let them escape; sometimes, he let them live, but trapped them; and sometimes, he let the darkness consume them entirely. He grew accustomed to his role, to being the judge and executioner, to being all knowing and infallible.

To being a god.

So when Harry Mason and his daughter escaped without his permit, it was a horrible shock.

 _It’s because you are incomplete,_ the darkness said. _You need Ventus_.

Like it or not, Vanitas knew that was true. However, he was very reluctant to act. Ventus was his window into Aqua and Terra’s lives. Without him, Vanitas would never see them again.

_That doesn’t have to be true. You are a god. Take them. Bind them to you forever._

He shook his head. “I can’t do that to them. They’re my _friends_.”

The darkness argued, but he was deaf to it.

* * *

He jolted awake, his heart feeling . . . _warm_.

“What is this?” he asked in awe. His rubbed his chest, feeling warmth soak through his bodysuit and into his hand.

 _Do you feel it?_ the darkness asked. _Look into your heart._

He did, and felt it: an elastic chord, binding him to another. No matter how far he was or how much he twisted it, that chord would always be there. He would always be connected to those on the other side.

But who were they?

 _Close your eyes and see_.

He obeyed and at once, the memory flashed in his mind.

( _Three star-shaped charms: blue, orange and green._

_“One for each of us,” Aqua said._

_The three of them stood in a circle, holding their charms out for the others to see._

_“Somewhere out there,” she said, “there's this tree with star-shaped fruit . . .”)_

“An unbreakable connection,” Vanitas muttered as the memory ended. He smiled to himself, and reached up for his Wayfinder . . .

Nothing.

The smiled dropped away. Vanitas felt strangely empty, as if someone had reached inside him and torn something precious out. They were connected to him, but Ventus had taken his Wayfinder. Had stolen that as well.

 _Then take it back_ , the darkness hissed. _Take your friends back_.

Vanitas shook his head, and fell back to old arguments. “I can’t.”

 _You don’t have to do anything to them_ , the darkness said, and he could feel it pressing around him. _Because_ she _already did it_ for _you._

Darkness swirled in his palm, forming a shadow of one of the Wayfinders. _She has already begun the processing of binding Terra and herself to you. You will just finish it_.

He blinked. The darkness was right. All he would be doing was saving Aqua the energy of finishing the spell herself. She had already bound herself to him. That must have meant that she and Terra remembered him, that they wanted to _be_ with him.

Who was he to deny them, especially since that had been all he ever wanted?

* * *

They were here, on his world, and he was so close to gaining everything. He wouldn’t chicken out now.

He forced the sleeping Ventus up, and directed him towards the town.

* * *

Vanitas loomed above Ventus as the latter struggled against the darkness that held him prisoner. With quick, deft fingers, he snatched the green Wayfinder off the blonde boy’s neck and held it up to the light to admire it. He would have preferred a colour like red or black, but whatever. It was the thought that counted.

“Give that back!” Ventus cried.

“Why?” Vanitas said, tilting his head. “It’s mine. It always has been.”

“No, Aqua gave that to me -”

“ _She gave it to me_!” he roared. “And you stole it!”

“Huh?” Ventus glanced from Vanitas to Aqua, eyes wide with confusion. “What are you talking about – none of us have ever seen you before!”

Vanitas laughed wildly. “You would think that, wouldn’t you?” Ventus had done a great job at replacing Vanitas in their thoughts. When Aqua and Terra had entered the town, all Vanitas had been able to pick up was concern about Ventus. They hadn’t thought once about him.

It infuriated him, and despite himself, he punished them.

Sure, some of that would have had to happen anyways. He didn’t like how Terra kept blaming himself for Officer Fair’s death, and Aqua’s light had prevented his spells from working. But there had been moments where he’d simply lost his temper and the town had acted upon it. That was in the past, though; he’d make it up to them.

He placed the green Wayfinder around his neck, so that it rested atop his heart. “It doesn’t matter,” he told Ventus. “Now, we’ll be one again.”

“Be one?”

Vanitas laughed. “Don’t tell me you don’t remember! We’re two halves of the same heart, idiot. That genius Xehanort thought it would be funny to split us apart.”

“Y-you’re me?” Ventus sounded disgusted at that, and Vanitas snarled.

“No,” he grabbed Ventus by the throat, “you’re _me_.”

Darkness erupted from the space around them and swept over the glass. It etched a circle around him and Ventus, encasing them in impossibly high flames. There was no heat from this inferno, but his mask cracked anyways, falling away bit by bit to reveal his face.

His golden eyes gleamed as he brought his face close to Ventus. “Now,” he said gleefully, “you’re going to go back to where you belong. . .”

Aqua started fighting again, but he ignored her. Even if she somehow broke free, there was nothing she could do.

Void Gear came to him, crackling with manic energy.

“ _To oblivion!_ ”

With that, he plunged his keyblade into Ventus’s heart.


	26. Chapter 26

A hound howled in the distance.

Heads bowed against the wind, Terra and Ansem stood in the courtyard of the church. Ash fell around them, settling on the graves and the disintegrating remains of the monsters they had just slain. The world smelt of smoke and fire, and the light from the church’s window was striking compared to the stormy skies above. Thunder crashed, and a bolt of lightning made its way from one cloud to another, giving them a purplish colour. Terra slowly raised his head, his eyes narrowing into slits at the sight of the church, and trudged forwards.

Ansem fell into line behind him, holding his sword like a samurai. Terra took fewer precautions, trusting his instincts to warn him of danger. It was only a surprise attack from behind that he worried about; his rage would give him enough energy to tear down a building, if he had to. He was ready to take on all the monsters this town could throw at him.

Through the rain of ash, the names on the gravestones were easily visible. They stood out like the moon in the sky, almost calling out for him to see them. He did so, reading them, and each name pounded another nail into his heart. This wasn’t just for his friends, but for every person the town had ever harmed; for every bit of light Silent Hill had tainted.

Terra sneered. He would find this so-called god, and tear it into pieces.

He stopped midway up the church’s steps. Ansem followed suit next to him, and they shared a meaningful look.

“Are you ready?” Ansem asked.

Terra took out his Wayfinder and held it tight. “Ready.”

He glanced over his shoulder once, back at Xion’s small shadow as she watched them ascend. The fog, thick as smoke, shrouded her face, but Terra knew she was looking at them with hope, and sorrow. She didn’t expect them to succeed.

_Lots of Keybladers do the impossible_ , he thought. _I’ll simply be one of them._

The stones of the steps bent under his weight, yielded to him as he traveled the rest of the way. He took one deep breath, tasted the air one last time, and then the muscles in his arms bugled as he flung the great doors open.

The air crackled with tension. He and Ansem stared at six cloaked figures, one of whom stood upon the altar while the other five gathered around. None of them showed their faces, although Terra thought he could recognize the tall, muscular form of Xaldin. Lexaeus, thanks to his unparalleled size, was distinguishable as well, but the rest were a mystery.

“So, the warrior of earth has finally arrived.”

He locked stares with the man on the altar. Terra still couldn’t see his face, but he knew that voice. It had spoken to him in the jail, right before he’d been thrown into that crooked courtroom. Xemnas, that’s whom it was.

“Where are my friends?” he demanded.

The other five people parted before him, so that no one stood between him and Xemnas. Upon seeing this apparent show of respect, Terra’s courage swelled.

“Bring them to me right now, and I won’t hurt you!” he said.

During his brief speech, Xemnas hadn’t moved. But now, the cloaked man’s shoulders shook – not with fear, but with laughter. The hollow sound bounced off the walls of the church, crashing into Terra’s head and drilling a hole straight to his mind. Ansem stepped back, but Terra held his ground.

“Where are they?” he shouted. “Stop hiding them from me!”

“I do not wish to hide anything from you, Terra.” Xemnas sounded amused. “Unfortunately, your friends are a little occupied right now. If you would kindly wait, I can allow you to see them soon.”

“No,” Terra growled. “I want to see them _now_.”

Calmly, Xemnas replied, “I fear that interrupting them now will bring harm to both sides.”

“That’s a lie!” Terra marched forwards, a thought away from summoning his keyblade. “You just want –”

His path was suddenly barred by the five other cloaked men, who stood there silently. It only gave him pause for a moment before he hauled out Earthshaker, and the ground trembled as his keyblade smashed into it. His blue eyes held a challenge, dared them to approach. He wouldn’t hesitate to tear through them for his friends.

This time, Terra was the one with the crazy laugh. “Are you going to just stand there?” he demanded. “Because I’m coming closer.”

True to his word, he walked towards them. Like a lion, he appeared perfectly at ease in his manner, but was ready to spring at a moment’s notice. The cloaked people didn’t react at first, attempting to call his nonexistent bluff, but when it became apparent that Terra wasn’t backing down, they drew weapons of their own. Xaldin, probably still fuming from their earlier fight, drew his lances first. At his cue, a pair of guns appeared, then Lexaeus’ giant axe-sword and then a pronged shield.

There was also what seemed to be a book, but Terra didn’t really care.

There was the sound of sliding metal, and then Ansem was by his side, ready to aid Terra in his fight against these impossible odds.

The man with the guns snickered. “If I were allowed to kill you,” he said, “you’d be nothing more than a bloody heap.”

That same man tossed his head carelessly, and the hood fell back, revealing his face. It was a scarred one, with one eye covered by an eye-patch, and the other a bright amber in hue. A grey streak ran through the man’s ponytail, betraying his age, although the wild smile on his face seemed energetic and young.

“Braig!” Ansem exclaimed.

Braig snorted. “I don’t go by that name anymore. Around here, the name’s Xigbar.”

“So, this is where you disappeared to.” Ansem shook his head, as if he were merely watching a friend deciding to go outside in a storm without an umbrella.

“Sure is!” Braig, or Xigbar’s, teeth were bared in an ugly smile. “And let me tell you one thing: it sure beats the crack job I had before!”

Ansem tightened his grip on his sword. “There is no disgrace in protecting our people. But this,” his mouth curled into a snarl, “this is unforgiveable.”

Xigbar only grinned wider. “So, what are you going to do? Arrest me? Snap your little handcuffs around my wrists?” He pocketed his guns and held his empty hands wide, taunting Ansem to take up his challenge. “As if! I don’t know if you’ve noticed, dudes, but you’re outnumbered.”

“I’ll take you all on!” Terra growled.

“Shh!” Xigbar held a finger up to his lips. To Terra, he said, “The grownups are speaking.”

“Do you sincerely think this is the first time I’ve faced such odds?” Ansem swept his sword up, gripping it in both hands as he held it in front of him. “You of all people should know better, Braig.”

“Okay, settle down, dude.” Xigbar slowly backed towards his allies. Though his guns were sticking out of his pockets, he made no move to grab them. “First, maybe you should see who you’re fighting against.”

Xigbar whirled around and yanked down the hood of the shortest member. Said person tried, in vain, to keep it up, but instead his fingers tangled in silver hair. Much like Xigbar’s face, there was only one eye. However, that was because long, sweeping bangs covered the other one, and not from any tragedy.

As attention focused on the small male, Lexaeus moved in front of him protectively, doing all he could to hide him.

“I-Ienzo?” Ansem choked.

Ienzo stared back at Ansem, unmoving. The expression on his face, one of complete apathy, was unnerving.

But Ansem didn’t seem to care, and he stepped closer to the man.

“I’ve been searching so long for you,” he whispered. “Ienzo, my son, is this what has become of you?”

Ienzo closed his eyes. “Go home,” he said coldly.

Ansem stopped. “Ienzo?”

“Go home,” Ienzo repeated, much louder this time.

“No,” Ansem said, and Terra suddenly felt a kinship with the man, “not after I have come so far.”

The expression on Ienzo’s face was weird; it was frustrated and yet, almost panicked. Then, something seemed to wash over the silver-haired man, and he returned to complete apathy.

“My name,” he said, “is Zexion.”

A stunned silence rang through the room. Slowly, Ansem turned from his son to Xigbar.

“What did you do to him?” he snarled.

Xigbar smirked.

Ansem lunged, and Terra barely raced forwards in time to haul Ansem back by the collar. It was just in time, for one of Xaldin’s lances had been on a collision course with the older man’s chest. Xaldin did not seem troubled by this setback, and merely laughed. Terra and Ansem backed away, privately contemplating the best course of action.

“Surrender, Terra,” Xemnas said, “and not only will you be reunited with your friends, but your companion may leave alive.”

Terra glanced at Ansem, who shook his head. “I’m not leaving until this is finished,” Ansem said gruffly.

Terra nodded in respect.

“Not going to happen,” he told Xemnas. “Now, hand over my friends, or else.”

With a silent roar, the darkness came to him, strengthening his body. His eyes glowed yellow whenever it passed over his face, and with a grim smile, he spread his arms wide and let the darkness gather in his palms.

“So, you have surrendered to darkness,” Xemnas said. “Do you see now, Terra – the power of our god? His darkness is unmatched; his will too great to be denied. Take your place with us now. Become one with the darkness!”

Terra heard whispering in his mind from a voice that wasn’t his. At once, he could feel something trying to take hold of him, a power paralysing his muscles and seeking a handhold on his mind. It was darkness’ doing – he was sure of it – but not _his_ darkness. And that’s where this supposed god had made its one big mistake.

From his heart, Terra brought forth the light _and_ the darkness and together, they shielded him.

“You got it wrong, Xemnas.” His hand swiped through the air. “The darkness doesn’t control me; _I_ control _it_.”

Not even a beat passed between his words and his actions. He lashed out with his darkness, scattering the hooded men as they dove out of the way. Growling, he stared directly at Xemnas, who was untouched by his assault.

He charged. Xaldin acted quickly and barred his path, aiming his lance at Terra’s chest. Terra deflected it with Earthshaker, and then continued his spin to block a line of bullets from Xigbar’s guns. With an open hand, he flung a ball of darkness at Xigbar, who deftly disappeared behind a row of pews. He wasted no more time with the one-eyed man, and quickly twisted to avoid Xaldin’s lance, backing up a step as he bore the man’s weight on his keyblade.

Ansem had sprung into action, his eyes filled with fire as he sought out Xigbar. The man with the shield intercepted him, although in the tiny glimpse Terra caught of their struggle, Ansem’s opponent seemed very frightened.

A tendril of darkness snaked up and around one of Xaldin’s lances, yanking it out of the man’s hand and into Terra’s waiting one. He brought it up over his head, and his strike would have been true, if it weren’t for some of Xigbar’s bullets smashing into his shoulder. Taking a page out of Terra’s book, Xaldin swung his fist forward and socked him in the nose.

Still duel-wielding his weapons, Terra placed some space between them and shook the pain off. With his bare hands, Xaldin wasn’t as strong as he appeared. The stolen lance flared up with darkness as Terra threw it, and it soared through the air and slashed through Lexaeus’ arm. The surprise attack was enough to disturb the downwards swing of his axe-sword, and it destroyed the ground next to Ansem’s arm instead of the arm.

Zexion hovered nearby, gripping his book, but no one really cared.

Terra slammed his keyblade into the ground, shouting a spell, and the earth rose up in a wave. Rocks, brick and dirt bowled over Xaldin, and crashed against the altar where Xemnas stood, untouched.

Xigbar’s bullets cut through his back again, and gritting his teeth, Terra raised his head to his shoulder and summoned his armour. Like a bronze statue, he stood perfectly still against the next onslaught of bullets. There was pain as they bounced off the armour, but it wasn’t as intense as it was before.

Xigbar dove into the pews as Terra charged, and the gunman perched on top of them like a bird. With Earthshaker’s power, Terra tore through the wooden seats, trying to corner Xigbar who kept jumping from one row to the next. Xigbar laughed wildly, carelessly releasing flurries of bullets with one hand while he beckoned Terra closer with the other.

“You’re not going to give up that easy, are you?” He taunted Terra with a smirk. “The party hasn’t even started yet.”

Terra’s keyblade tore the next pew out of the ground and tossed it through the air, but the show of strength didn’t seem to faze Xigbar. Grinning, he leapt back further, combining his two guns into one long rifle. Terra could feel an invisible bull’s-eyes on him as Xigbar tracked his movement. He only hoped he could react in time.

Nearby, Ansem lashed out with a wicked slash that tore through the shield-man’s wrist and broke his grip on his weapon. Lexaeus immediately attacked and forced himself between them, giving his ally time to recover. Ansem glanced around, taking note of the situation, and noticed Terra’s predicament. Instead of resuming his fight with Lexaeus and his ally as expected, Ansem turned and ran towards Xigbar instead.

Unaware of whom was rushing up behind him, Xigbar continued to bait Terra. “So, Terra, how would you like to be reintroduced to your friends? Gagged? Chained up? Maybe we’ll even let you say bye to Ventus . . .”

His statement was suddenly punctuated with a choke.

Ansem pulled his sword out of Xigbar’s back.

Xigbar stared down at the hole, his fingers coming back red when he touched it. The life in his eye died even as the hatred remained and without grace, Xigbar tumbled off the pew and onto the floor.

Everyone stared. Xaldin pulled himself out of the rubble from Terra’s last spell, and stopped when his eyes met the sight. Terra himself looked up, away from the body, and at the shell-shocked face of Ansem. Terra could see that despite everything, Ansem hadn’t really wanted anyone to die.

Terra wasn’t sure if he felt the same.

There was a low hiss, and a tingling sensation danced along his skin. It felt like the air before an electric generator overloaded and with a cry, he sprung forwards and tackled Ansem to the ground. A wave of energy washed over them, searing Terra’s back through the armour. Ansem jolted and howled in agony, and Terra could only release his own cry in return.

Xemnas’ steps sounded like the crack of a whip. “That is enough,” he said quietly, but venomously. “It appears that your skills have surpassed my expectations.”

“Getting worried?” Terra growled, pushing himself up and off Ansem.

“Hardly,” Xemnas scoffed. “However, you are enough of a thorn in my side that I must take matters into my own hands. Be proud, keyblader; you have proven yourself worthy of my _personal_ attention.”

Xemnas held his arm out and from what appeared to be the hollow of his sleeve, grew a red beam of crackling light. A second one extended from his other hand, and they both left afterimages as he sliced through the air. Inspired by their leader, the other cloaked men gathered, weapons drawn.

Zexion was still hiding in a corner.

“Last chance to surrender,” Xemnas said.

Terra drew himself into a fighting stance. “In your dreams.”

Xemnas’ face remained impassive as he beckoned Terra forward.

It was an invitation he gladly accepted. Terra rushed forward, smashing through what seemed to be a red Reflect spell and leapt atop the altar. Crossing his ethereal blades at the shaft, Xemnas blocked Terra’s keyblade, and Terra’s muscles shook as they strained against each other.

His eyes half-closed, Xemnas calmly watched him struggle. “You cannot best me, keyblader. Surrender.”

Terra answered with a roar, letting the darkness engulf him once more. The air around them grew hot with power, and the darkness burst from his body like lava spewing from a volcano. The intensity of the force pushed Xemnas back, and he uncrossed his blades, bringing them to a more offensive position. With the darkness in hand, Terra sprung forwards, eyes shining yellow among the black.

Palm up, Xemnas summoned a flat, glimmering shield that flickered in and out of sight. Terra tried to smash through this one too, but when Earthshaker made contact with the shield, it felt like someone had ground his bones into powder. His own strength was reflected back at him, stunning him long enough for Xemnas to charge up a beam of energy, and then Terra was flying across the altar, rolling off the side and skidding to a stop against a pew.

He rose, bits of wood and dust falling off his shoulders. And a foot planted itself on his back, pinning him, but only for a moment. Terra twisted his head to catch a glimpse of the man wielding the shield. He was a weedy thing with green eyes, and oh-so easy to throw off. The green-eyed man stumbled back, and Terra nailed him right in the gut. The man fell to the ground, coughing.

On the other side of the church, Ansem was engaged in an elaborate dance with Xaldin. From here, it appeared that Ansem was the superior fighter, but Xaldin had a larger arsenal. Xaldin never stopped swinging, using one lance to block Ansem’s sword and the other to jab at his weak points. It was hard to say who would win.

Terra wanted to help, but the rising hairs on his arms reminded him of Xemnas. The man walked lazily across the altar towards him, blades pointed towards the ground. Terra spun around to face him, and with his sleeve, wiped away some blood that had trickled out of his nose. Okay, so charging straight at Xemnas was a bad idea. He could work around that.

He tossed some fireballs forward and once more, Xemnas created that flat shield. This time though, Terra was pleased to notice that the spell did not rebound. Instead, the fire disappeared seamlessly, as if absorbed into the shield. Terra rushed to meet him again, swinging at Xemnas’ shoulder in a curving angle as not to be caught by the shield again.

Red sparks flew into the air whenever their weapons made contact. Slow as he was, Terra was too close for Xemnas to use his shield, and they fought blade-to-blade instead. Mostly, it was Terra attacking and Xemnas defending. Terra knew that Xemnas didn’t want to kill him but still, he expected more effort.

Then it occurred to him. Xemnas didn’t need to win; Xemnas only needed to _delay_ him.

He swung Earthshaker low at Xemnas’ thigh, which again, one of the red blades stopped cold. With this other hand, Terra sharpened the darkness to a point and thrust. The shafts of Xemnas’ two blades fell onto his wrist, trapping it between. He needed either momentum or both hands to swing Earthshaker, neither of which he had at the moment. So he took a risk. He dropped Earthshaker, reached up and wrenched Xemnas’ bottom arm away, and punched Xemnas with his freed, darkness-enhanced fist. Xemnas reeled back, surprised, and Terra called Earthshaker to his hand. Holding it horizontal, he lowered his head and charged, driving both the keyblade and his shoulder into Xemnas’ chest.

They fell to the ground, where Terra did his best to ram the shaft of his keyblade into Xemnas’ throat. But then bluish sparks shot from Xemnas’ hand and before Terra could react, Xemnas’ palm was against his face. At once, a hot pain licked at his skin and he reared back, leaving Xemnas free. Forcing himself to get over the pain, Terra scrambled to his knees and Xemnas slashed at him the entire time it took for them to stand.

Terra was suddenly aware of a presence behind him.

Lexaeus only had time to get an arm around Terra’s neck before Ansem leapt to the rescue. He still held his trusty sword, but he also had one of Xaldin’s lances now, and it was that he used to drive Lexaeus away. Planting the lance in the ground, Ansem made his presence known.

“Go, find your friends,” Ansem commanded. “I will hold them off.”

Was Ansem mad? There was no way he could win against all of them. “I’m not leaving you!” Terra said.

“If you don’t, then we are both dead men walking,” Ansem growled. “It appears my reason for being here was folly, but yours . . . they can still be saved. Go.”

“Thank you,” he said.

He dodged past Xemnas, who turned to face him – only to narrowly avoid Ansem as the blond man aimed for his back. Terra could hear the sounds of a furious battle as he pulled out his Wayfinder. Closing, his eyes, he begged it to guide him.

The Wayfinder glowed, and he knew.

He reached down, pried open the trapdoor and descended into the dark.


	27. Chapter 27

Each inch he descended felt like walking up the hangman’s stand to the noose. Terra kept one hand on the wall, worried that the dark stairs under his feet would end midair. With his other hand, he held Earthshaker in a sweaty grip that threatened to allow the keyblade to slip out from between his fingers.

It was so dark. The walls and ceiling, though he knew they were there, were too dark to see. The only light was from the step he directly stood on, and a distant opening at what must have been the bottom of the stairs. It was that which guided Terra, and the sight of the light served to calm his frazzled nerves.

Finally, he reached the bottom and walked into the light.

There was glass under his foot, slick glass coloured red and black. The entire floor, circular in shape, was made of it. From here, the light originated, strong enough that he could see across the room, yet somehow weak enough that he still couldn’t see the walls. They, like the ones in the staircase, were perfectly black, like the darkness of space without the stars.

He saw Aqua first. She was slumped over, sitting with her legs tucked beneath her. She made no response when Terra shouted her name and ran over; she didn’t even look at him. He crouched down to her level, shook her shoulders and when that failed to rouse her, grabbed her chin and lifted it to see her face. Her eyes were open, but they were . . . dead. There was no other word to describe it.

“Aqua, snap out of it!”

Although he hated to hurt her, he slapped her lightly on the cheek, praying that the shock would bring her to her senses. But it didn’t; instead, her head rolled with the force in an eerie, boneless fashion. He mumbled a Cura spell, growing frantic as the green glow enveloped her, and then vanished without an effect. What was wrong with her? What was going on?

His trembling arms dropped back to his sides, and Aqua’s head flopped down again. She looked no different than she did before.

He backed away. Though he loathed admitting it, Aqua’s condition, _Aqua_ , was scaring him. He looked around, found his next target, and rushed over.

“Ven!”

Ven was sprawled out on the ground, lying on his back. Unlike Aqua, his eyes were shut, and fluttered closed again after Terra peeled them open. Despite that, Terra was able to see that they had the same dead quality that Aqua had.

On his knees, Terra stared blankly at Ven. This scene was evoking unpleasant memories of when Ven had first arrived at the castle and had simply laid in his bed, comatose. Looking over the younger boy for some clue as to what had happened, Terra caught sight of a bit of exposed skin. Ven’s shirt had pulled up so that it didn’t cover his stomach completely, and on the edges of the pale flesh, Terra could see something . . .

He pulled the shirt up, and his eyes widened at what he saw.

What appeared to be black vines crisscrossed Ven’s skin. They were small, skinny things, pulsating like veins. Warm to the touch, they clung stubbornly to Ven when Terra pulled at them and when he followed the path, he saw that they were attached to the glass platform.

“What in the worlds . . .?”

The vines were all over him, covering Ven’s chest and hiding under his sleeves. Even now, as Terra watched, he could see them creeping up the younger boy’s neck towards his face. Growling, Terra grabbed a fistful and pulled. It was like trying to tear apart cobwebs, but he managed it, and threw a clump of the black stuff to the ground. He annihilated it with fire next, just in case it could somehow come back.

Ven stirred. “Terra . . .”

Ven tried to sit up, but the remaining vines held him in place. Before the boy could panic, Terra took a page out of Aqua’s book and shushed him, gently pushing his head back down.

“I’m here, Ven. Just hang tight; I’ll get this off you.”

Ven’s eyes opened halfway, and his head rolled a bit to one side. “Am I still dreaming? Are you actually here?” he asked. “Your eyes . . . Terra, is this _real_?”

“It’s real,” Terra said, “I’m here, and I’m getting you two out of here.”

“No!” Ven tried to sit up again. “Grab Aqua and go. You have to get out of here!”

Terra clenched his jaw. “Not without you. I’m not leaving either of you.”

“That’s because you’re not leaving.”

Terra leapt to his feet and spun around. However, there was no enemy to be seen. Baffled, he turned in a complete circle, still finding no trace of the voice’s origin.

Then he looked up.

In the center of the glass platform, a boy floated in the air far above. He looked similar to Ven, with closed eyes and the same spiky hair that branched off in every direction; however, there were some choice differences. The spikes on the mysterious boy’s head seemed to be more sideways, while Ven’s were straighter up. Most importantly though, this boy’s hair was black.

“Vanitas,” he growled. At this point, it was still technically a guess, but Terra couldn’t imagine who else it could be.

In mockery of a descending angel, Vanitas slowly floated downwards, touching down in the center. Bright yellow eyes snapped open, fixing on Terra the way a hawk’s eyes would lock onto a mouse. Teeth bared in a feral grin, Vanitas snapped his fingers. There was a strangled yelp behind Terra, and he turned just to time to see the black vines claim Ven again, and drag him into a deep sleep.

“What are you doing to them?” Terra demanded.

Vanitas shrugged. “Nothing that wasn’t meant to be. Soon, me and Ven will be one again, and our trio will be reborn.”

Terra blinked, too surprised to be angry. “ _Our_ trio?”

“Me, you, and Aqua. We’ll be together again, and _he_ won’t stand in our way.”

Vanitas was actually smiling, and it was more frightening than the manic grin he had worn before. He approached Terra with the same bouncing gait that Ven had, and Terra recoiled. He held Earthshaker defensively in front of him, giving Vanitas pause.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Vanitas claimed. “The three of us, we have an unbreakable connection, remember?”

Terra started forwards as Vanitas held the green Wayfinder up. His fingers twitched, itching to rip it out of Vanitas’s grip. Vanitas, misreading the situation, smiled again and hooked it to a chain around his neck. It laid there on Vanitas’s chest, as if declaring it belonged there.

“Where did you get that?” Terra asked.

Vanitas looked at him, shocked. “Aqua gave it to us.” One hand reached out, palm up, as if beckoning Terra forward. “Don’t you remember?”

“I remember her giving it to Ven, not you.”

That wiped the smile from Vanitas’s face. “She gave it to me,” he said in a low voice, “Ventus stole it.”

“Funny,” Terra said with no trace of amusement in his voice. He walked towards Vanitas, striking at him with his words. “I have the feeling it’s the complete opposite. I mean, I’m pretty sure that you took it from Ven . . .”

“ _Shut up!_ ” The fury in Vanitas’s voice caught Terra off-guard. “It’s mine, _mine!_ ”

Terra spoke his thoughts aloud. “Who are you?”

“You know me: I’m Vanitas, your friend. Stop being stupid!

Terra shook his head. “I can honestly say that I have never seen you before.”

Devastation swept across Vanitas’s face. The look, so alien compared to Terra’s expectations, reminded the eldest apprentice of Ven and for a moment, he was torn. Part of him ached to comfort Vanitas and wipe that look off his face; but the other side of him, both the rational side and the side fuming over the damage done to his friends, held him back. Quickly, that furious part of him took control again, and Terra’s lips curled in a sneer.

“You don’t remember me . . .” Vanitas muttered. He shook his head, and it seemed to Terra that he was forcing a smile onto his face. “No matter, I’ll _make_ you remember.”

Reading the anger in the other’s eyes, Terra held up his keyblade and prepared himself.

* * *

Why was he here? Where was he?

Ven stood alone in an empty white space. There was no ground under him, but he wasn’t falling. He remembered, vaguely, waking up to Terra hovering over him, and begging the older boy to run. Instinctively, Ven reached for his Wayfinder, his spirits plummeting when he found only air. Yes, that was right: Vanitas had taken it.

He walked, but the world didn’t change. It was white everywhere, never ending. His feet made no sound as they slapped against whatever was passing as the ground, and the silence made him nervous. Where was Terra and Aqua? How did he get here?

Was it too late?

He bowed his head, squeezing his eyes shut to try and keep back the tears that threatened to fall. Was this the end? Had he led his friends to their doom? At that thought, he couldn’t stop the tears, and sniffling, he wiped his eyes with his arm. They didn’t deserve this; even if he was to be trapped here, he just wanted them to get out.

He opened his eyes, blinking as he saw his shadow. That hadn’t been there before. . .

The shadow lengthened. Ven backpedaled, but the shadow did not follow. It continued to expand, grew to an impossible size and at the tip, in the center of the ‘head’, thick tendrils of darkness rose; they coiled and twisted together like a mass of writhing snakes, travelling upwards. From the mass sprouted two appendages that smoothed and shaped into arms. The rest of the mass bulged, and then Vanitas burst through it like a baby bird breaking through its egg. His mask gone, he grinned viciously at Ven, his yellow eyes crazed and unfocused.

“It’s time for you to go away,” Vanitas said. “You stole my life, and now you’re giving it back.”

“You’re nuts!” Ven said. He wasn’t one to let hatred linger in his heart, but for Vanitas, he could make an exception.

“Doesn’t change the fact I’m going to win,” Vanitas sneered. “Now why don’t you be a good boy and stop resisting?”

Wayward Wind appeared in his hands. “Not a chance,” he said. He moved one foot back and sunk into his fighting stance, twisting his keyblade so that it sat in his reversed grip.

To his surprise, Vanitas didn’t summon his. “Oh, Ventus.” He sighed, as if he were speaking about a particularly nasty storm outside. “Why do you always have to complicate things?”

“I complicate things? You’re the one trying to kill me!”

“Not kill you,” Vanitas claimed, “ _complete_ you. You’re only half a heart, Ventus; you can’t survive with that. You have to merge with me, there’s no other choice.”

Vanitas held his hand out. “Join with me. Become one with me.”

Ven narrowed his eyes, but otherwise, kept a straight face. “What will happen to Terra and Aqua?”

Vanitas, believing that Ven was on the verge of agreeing, grinned. “Don’t worry, they’ll still be with us. The three of us will _never_ be apart.”

Ven heard the underlying threat in that sentence. He had never intended to accept Vanitas’s terms, but even if he had considered them, that would have killed it. No matter what Vanitas and this town threw at him, he would never sacrifice his friends. He would fight for them and keep them safe, even if that meant destroying himself.

“I’m not letting you do this,” he said.

Vanitas’s hand fell back to his side. For a long moment, they stared at each other. Finally, Vanitas rolled his eyes and said, “I tried to be nice,” one hand reached up above his head, “but if you want to do this the hard way . . .”

That same hand closed, curling around the handle of a dark keyblade. Keeping that same height, Vanitas moved it back and twisted so that he held the keyblade next to his head and it curved forwards.

Vanitas sneered. “. . . I’ll oblige you.”

* * *

“So, this is what has become of you all.”

Ansem bowed his head, hiding the vicious snarl that had taken over his face. He had spent so long waiting, so long searching for answers, and it turned out he had been betrayed all along. Was this karma? Some delayed punishment for sins he didn’t even know he had? Or had they’d simply been rotten all along and he hadn’t noticed? There were so many possibilities, but not one changed the reality that he was facing off against five armed men with only a sword. At least Braig was gone.

Dilan and Aeleus . . . he remembered sitting in the office with them, discussing cases over a cup of coffee, and bidding them farewell as they left to investigate the disappearance of two scientists in the town known as Silent Hill. They’d vanished too, and after the chief had spoken with the mayors of the towns neighbouring Silent Hill, Aeleus and Dilan had been declared deceased. More sinister was that the chief absolutely refused to send any person to investigate their disappearance or even retrieve their bodies, threatening to fire anyone who did. There had been uproar, naturally, but the chief had refused to budge.

Ansem had been upset, having known the men personally, yet had not been willing to risk his career for the sake of two corpses. Selfish, perhaps, but judging by current events, it had been for the best.

But then the town had taken his son.

He had thought nothing of it when Ienzo began to sketch bloody churches and deformed monsters. His son had always been intrigued by the darker side of humanity. But then, Ienzo disappeared and desperate, Ansem had taken a closer look at his son’s work. A week passed with him asking everyone for information, and then Ansem discovered that the church did exist. It was the Balkan Church from Silent Hill. He had argued with the chief to open an official investigation there, but she had refused.

So, he had hijacked a police car and gone there anyways.

No one had come after him.

Before, when he was still reeling from being refused, he had despised the chief with every fibre of his being. Now, he was supremely grateful to her. Even if she had failed to stop him, at least she had kept others from following. No one deserved to face the horror that was Silent Hill.

Nor did Silent Hill deserve to add more to its army. If he was correct in guessing that the two other men were Xemnas and Even, then he had discovered the fate of the two scientists. It appeared that everyone who had entered had fallen under the town’s thrall.

He prayed that he would not be the next.

“Is this justice?” he spat at Aeleus. “Is this how you have become a hero?”

Aeleus said nothing. He and the force had used to joke about how little the giant man had to say. In a way, it had fondly reminded him of Ienzo whenever he was forced to interact with a girl. The ‘Silent Hero’, they’d nicknamed Aeleus. Back then, the name had suited the man perfectly. Now, it only left a sour taste on Ansem’s tongue.

“Accept your loss with grace,” Xemnas said. “Stand aside, and we may find a place for you within our ranks.”

Ansem smirked. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. There’s a dear friend of mine dependant on this old body’s stamina.”

“Is that so?” Xemnas said. “I fear that you are incorrect in that assumption. I have no desire to retrieve Terra. It was his choice to descend into the darkness; it would be inconsiderate to stop him now.”

“What!” Ansem exclaimed. Had that all been part of the plan? He cursed; like fools, Terra and he had fallen right into the trap.

He made a move towards the trapdoor, intending to extract Terra from this mess they had gotten themselves into. However, in the corner of his vision, he saw Dilan move . . .

He leapt back just as Dilan’s lance impaled the spot where his feet had been.

“I’m afraid you can’t do that,” Dilan said.

Ansem scowled, head whipping from side to side as he noticed the Order drawing in closer. He swung his sword in a wide arc, warning them to stay away.

“I have spent _weeks_ in this hell!” Ansem shouted. “I will not be stopped by the words of a half-baked cult!”

“Will you be stopped by a lance in your gut?” Dilan asked in an almost friendly way.

“Make all the threats you want,” Ansem said, “but either you come and stop me, or I will rescue Terra and his friends.”

* * *

Aqua watched as Terra and Vanitas faced off, helpless to aid either of her best friends. She didn’t understand: why were they fighting? They’d just reunited, finally found each other again . . . why was Terra attacking him?

“Terra, stop!” she shouted. Or at least, that’s what she would have done, but her mouth refused to open and when she tried to move to stop Terra from charging, her body refused to obey.

She was frozen on the edge of the glass platform, safely away from the imminent fight, and as it dawned on her that she couldn’t move, she began to panic. Fear swelled within her, lacing her blood with fire as she desperately tried to make her limbs obey her will. Less than a minute passed though before a soothing wave swept over her, neatly shoving her fear to the side. _It’s okay,_ a silky, smooth voice whispered to her. _There’s no need to be afraid._

That voice and her emotions may have said one thing, but logic said another: something was taking over her, and she would be a fool to think it was okay. She chose to ignore the voice, reaching instead for the fear – the _real_ emotion – even as it seemed to be pulled farther and farther out of her reach. Meanwhile, the calm, the apathy pressed against her, threatening to devour her whole. This was wrong! Her friends were fighting and she couldn’t do anything . . .

_Not my friend . . ._

Her mental struggle ceased for a heartbeat, and the thought came again.

_Not my friend, not Vanitas. It’s . . . it’s the other boy . . ._

A face flashed in front of her eyes, a face with bright blue eyes and spiky blond hair. She couldn’t turn her head to look, but she knew that boy was to her left, sleeping.

The smooth voice spoke again. _Lies_ , it said. _That boy’s not your friend. He’s the enemy. He hurt you._

Was that . . . was that true? But why then did it feel so wrong? She wasn’t sure what to believe anymore.

_Trust us,_ the voice said. _Vanitas is your friend. He_ needs _you. He’ll look after you . . ._

The clang of clashing keyblades saved her from having to make a decision. Rooted to the spot, only able to blink, she was forced to watch as Vanitas and Terra fought. There was darkness trailing the both of them, mixing so that she couldn’t tell which part belonged to whom. Both of them seemed enraged, but Vanitas’s was more of a calm rage while Terra’s face was that of a frenzied animal. He held nothing back, clearly seeking to severely injure their younger friend. She had to step in . . .

Suddenly, as Terra raised Earthshaker, she caught sight of the orange Wayfinder, which glinted for a fleeting second as it swung through the air. From deep inside her, a ferocious voice roared, _No, it’s not Vanitas! He’s not my friend. HE’S LYING!_

Immediately, the smooth voice hissed again, trying to reclaim her trust. But even if she had wanted to listen, she couldn’t shake off the doubt. Vanitas wasn’t her friend? Then it must have been the other one, the boy next to her with the blond hair. . .

Stars burst behind her eyes. Her head felt like it had been split into two, and she could _feel_ something being torn away from her. She tried to recover, tried to focus on that boy again, and found to her terror that she couldn’t remember his face.

That void only lasted a moment though, and then something was shoved into that space. It was a memory of her, Terra and Vanitas, under a starry sky. In her hands, she held the three Wayfinders and handed them to her best friends . . .

_No, that never happened . . ._

She couldn’t stop the memory from playing out in front of her eyes. Even though she was certain that this had never occurred, the clarity and vividness of the memory made her doubt herself. What if it had happened? Was she just fooling herself?

She watched Vanitas and Terra continue to fight, her mind silent for once. Then, something so obvious came to her.

She didn’t know whether Vanitas was a friend or an enemy, but she knew Terra was her best friend. She could help him. Of course, there was still the problem of being unable to move . . .

_Come on, do this for me_. She focused all her strength, all her will into one simple task, the strain of it giving her a headache.

It took an entire minute, but then, her hand twitched.


	28. Chapter 28

The formerly white space was splattered with black and red. Each one of Vanitas’s missed attacks scorched the pristine place, tainting it permanently. Still, Ven thought it was better that than him. 

“Aqua and Terra aren’t here to save you now,” Vanitas said darkly. He stalked towards Ven like a panther creeping up on a deer struggling to stand.

Ven gritted his teeth. He knew that; that was why he had to win.

“Just give up, and then,” Vanitas grinned, “I’ll be gentle.”

“Never!”

He flung his keyblade at Vanitas, who lazily leaned out of the way. So busy was the dark boy with smirking and mocking Ven, it never occurred to him to check behind. On Ven’s command, Wayward Wind arced back, still spinning like a twister until the moment it smashed into Vanitas’s back. He looked stunned more than anything, and an ugly snarl appeared on his face as he realized Ven wasn’t going to go down without a fight. But judging by the glint in Vanitas’s eyes, he was perfectly okay with that.

Vanitas rushed at him, leaving a black streak in his wake. They locked blades, each trying to rip the keyblade out of their opponent’s hands. Of them, Vanitas was the strongest, so Ven slid back and away, taking Wayward Wind with him.

Vanitas smirked. He pointed his keyblade at Ven, who rushed to evade the balls of darkness that came after him. Like comets, the darkness left blazing trails behind them, and they followed Ven doggedly. Ven ran, leaping over a shockwave Vanitas sent his way, and screeched to a stop as the dark orbs closed in. He dove between them, rolling past, and cast a Firaga spell at each. The two forces collided, both cancelling out the other.

Just as he expected, Vanitas was already there. On one knee after his roll, Ven brought his keyblade up, holding it horizontally over his head to block Vanitas’s downward stroke. Vanitas didn’t waste any time in bringing his keyblade back for another strike, using his entire body in a way that was eerily similar to Pyramid Head. Ven scrambled back, Vanitas’s keyblade nicking his forehead. Before any worse damage could happen, Ven cast a barrier between the two of them, offering him just enough time to stand.

When the barrier died, Vanitas stalked towards him. Ven backpedalled, wiping the sweat off his hands with his pants.

“Look at you,” Vanitas said. “You’re scared. Just do yourself a favour and give up.”

Ven tightened his grip on his keyblade. “Not while my friends need me!” he said.

Vanitas’s yellow eyes narrowed into slits. “Your friends,” he repeated in a mutter, visibly growing angry at the words. “You’ve had your fun with them; now it’s my turn.”

“I’m not letting you touch them!”

Ven threw all his speed into his next action. He was a blur as he moved, with his keyblade shining a brilliant white from the strength of his light. Vanitas, clearly not expecting him to wield such power, cringed at the force of Ven’s attack. Ven didn’t stop there; he pivoted on the balls of his feet, lunging at Vanitas and tore through his back with Wayward Wind. Then he did it again, this time nailing Vanitas across the chest.

Vanitas slumped over and panting, Ven stood ready and sucked in oxygen. Although Ven swore he had made Vanitas bleed, the dark boy’s bodysuit was still intact. Ven couldn’t even tell where he had struck Vanitas. Slowly, Vanitas straightened up again, his head turning to face Ven’s direction.

Vanitas cocked his head to one side.

He slammed his keyblade against the ground, and white tiles were flung into the air as columns of darkness broke through the white space, heading straight for Ven. They were about as wide as a town road, too wide for Ven to evade in time. He cast reflect over himself, hiding behind the spell as the darkness slammed into it. The barrier actually _bent_ , curling over and around its summoner. Ven tried to hold it, but the force was too great, and he could feel it draining the strength from his muscles. He decided then to let it go, and conserve what little energy he had.

The darkness crashed into him. It was like being caught in an avalanche, and all Ven could do was try to keep his mouth shut and free of the darkness. He flailed like a drowning man, even after he was thrown from the mass and landed on his stomach.

Quickly, he looked behind him, but Vanitas wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Nor was he to the side.

He stood, utterly confused.

His intuition flared and instinct took over, throwing him to the side as Vanitas flew straight down. His dark keyblade impaled the spot where Ven had been, and Vanitas clicked his tongue in disappointment.

“Thunder!” Ven shouted.

The bolt shot down, not fast enough to strike the elusive Vanitas. The dark apprentice seemed to glide out of the way, before reaching out his own hand. Between his fingers, there were arcs of black electricity, and that was what Vanitas used to cast his own Thunder. Unlike Ven, his spell did not come from the sky, but from his hands and so, was much harder to dodge. Still, Ven managed it and not only that, but countered with a quick burst of fire.

Vanitas slashed through it with his keyblade. The resulting motes showered the air around him, blinding him for one crucial second.

It had not been Ven’s intention to follow up, but when he saw the opening, he couldn’t resist. He sprung forwards, his keyblade glimmering with fire.

A single slash, and this time he tore through Vanitas’s bodysuit.

The wound went all the way from Vanitas’s left shoulder to his right thigh. All along that line, the suit was shredded, the remaining pieces doing little to stop the blood. Ven’s eyes widened, in horror, and in relief. Was it . . . was it over?

But of course, things couldn’t be that easy. Vanitas murmured a few words, and then the wounds healed. His bodysuit seemed to stretch, grow over the spots that were missing, until it was like new again. Grinning, Vanitas looked over at Ven, who was silent with shock.

“You’re not the only person who knows Curaga.” Vanitas purred, “Aqua can tell you that.”

“Shut up! Stop talking about her!”

“Why not?” Vanitas twirled his keyblade in his hands. “While you were running around like a chicken with its head cut off, _I_ was the one who saved her. She would be dead if it wasn’t for me.”

Ven snarled. “She wouldn’t have been dying if it wasn’t for you!”

Vanitas closed his eyes, lifting his chin to the heavens. “It was all meant to be,” he said softly. “Just as we’re meant to be one. Can you feel it, Ventus, our hearts merging together?”

“You’re delusional!” Ven spat.

Vanitas laughed. “From where I stand, you’re the crazy one.”

Ven leapt, his armour enveloping him mid-stride. Twisting at the waist, he brought his keyblade back, then forwards in one final blow . . .

Only for Vanitas’s keyblade to stop it cold.

The force of the impact sent shudders up and down Ven’s arms. Vanitas didn’t even move, having borne the attack without effort. Ven hesitated, unsure how to react, and Vanitas unlocked his blade from Ven’s, slamming his keyblade into the side of Ven’s head.

Black spots dotted his vision. Head swimming, Ven struggled to sit up. The world that he saw was unfocused, with Vanitas having impossible proportions. Once his vision returned to normal, he saw that this time, Vanitas had made no effort to follow him. Instead, the other boy was staring at the keyblade in his hands, stroking its long shaft.

Ven gasped in pain as he stood, and that served to draw Vanitas’s attention. “It’s begun,” Vanitas said slowly. “Look.”

He pointed his dark keyblade at the sky, a look of triumphant glee on his face. A few heartbeats passed where nothing happened, but then, a bright glow shone from the tip of the keyblade. Ven raised his arm, shielding his eyes, and although he was squinting, he could still see the glow spread downwards, until it devoured the keyblade completely.

And it began to transform. The end grew long and pointed; the handle, wider. The glow faded, and Vanitas held an entirely new weapon in his hands. It was no longer one keyblade, but two crossed at the shaft. Bound to this crossing was a filigree, missing part of one side, and vaguely resembling a snowflake. The strange keyblade ended in a sword-like blade, albeit one that was cracked and brown with rust.

Vanitas lowered his new keyblade, staring at it with unbridled awe. “It’s not complete yet,” he said, “but it’s a start.”

“Wh-what is it?” Ven asked.

Vanitas grinned, seemingly eager to share. “The X-Blade, the one true keyblade, made from a heart with equal amounts of light and darkness. It’s not completed yet because we’re not truly one, but soon . . .”

Ven narrowed his eyes. “So when we become one . . .”

“Then the X-Blade will be complete!” Vanitas finished. He thrust his keyblade into the air again, and to Ven, the rusted blade seemed like a fuse measuring the time he had left.

“But if we don’t . . .”

Vanitas laughed wildly. “Give it a rest,” he said, “it’s over, Ventus.” He swiped the X-Blade through the air, and Ven could feel its power blast past him.

“No.” Ven’s tone left no room for argument.

Vanitas shrugged. “Have it your way.”

Ven’s swings were violent and laced with desperation. Vanitas just stood there, blocking them all easily, yawning with the clear aim to mock him. Finally, the dark-haired boy grew bored and with a single swipe, he tossed Ven through the air.

“I’m done playing around,” Vanitas said, voice dripping with venom. “Let’s end this, once and for all.”

With that, he drove the X-Blade into the ground.

Like ice, the white floor shifted and buckled as it cracked. Through the spaces, black light leaked through, one that Ven did his best to dodge. More and more cracks spread, crisscrossing each other in an elaborate pattern.

The floor heaved once, as if taking a deep breath.

And then _broke_.

Shards of white fell around them as he and Vanitas plunged downwards to the glass station below. On it, Ven could see his own image, but also one of Vanitas. It was across from his, in almost the exact same position, like a dark mirror.

Gritting his teeth, Ven glared at his other half. Vanitas was falling calmly, his expression one of peace. He was poised to take everything, to swallow Ven’s light and those of his friends. And Ven knew that he couldn’t let that happen, no matter what it would take.

“Light!”

His spell caught Vanitas by surprise, and the dark boy howled as the light burned his insides. Without missing a beat, Ven transformed his keyblade, spinning to land upright on his trusty glider as it swerved to catch him. He shot through the air, crouched low, arm held out and ready.

And he leapt, transforming Wayward Wind back into its original form. He grabbed the keyblade’s handle as he tumbled, bringing it up and around to strike Vanitas across the chest. The other boy gasped, fingers feebly gripping the site, but once again, the suit refused to tear.

With a growl, Vanitas summoned his own glider, taking off after Ven who had already transformed Wayward Wind again. They raced through the black sky, their gliders’ black and white streaks weaving together. Ven was the fastest, the most agile, and set to outmanoeuvring Vanitas, so that he could be on the offensive instead of the defensive.

But what Vanitas lacked in speed he made up for in raw power; evading him was a tricky task, and whenever Ven seemed set to gain the advantage, Vanitas turned it around. The X-Blade gave him unparalleled strength, and even when Vanitas clearly missed, Ven still felt its power.

His skin felt raw and bruised, especially where the X-Blade had actually struck him. Curaga took care of the bleeding, but did little to quell the aches, and they only grew worse as the fight went on. Sensing this, Vanitas pursued him more intensely, slamming his glider against his. The two gliders locked, falling towards the platform, and neither made a move to stop them.

“This is where it ends for you,” Vanitas said.

Ven’s hands snapped open, humming with magic. “I don’t think so.”

He brought the light forwards just as Vanitas roused his darkness. The two forces clashed, equal in strength and purity.

And unbeknownst to them, the rust on the X-Blade faded.

The air whined as they tore through it. Like trailing flames, the cloud of light and darkness streamed behind them, lighting the sky for what seemed to be miles. Ven grunted, his limbs beginning to shake as his energy drained. From what he saw, Vanitas wasn’t faring much better.

They broke apart simultaneously, their gliders taking them far from each other. There wasn’t enough time for Ven to stop his descent completely, but at least he could slow down enough to land safely. Right before his glider crashed into the platform, he jumped and rolled, ending up in a kneeling position.

He stood and turned, facing his opponent on the other side of the platform.

“This . . . this is my heart,” Ven said in amazement.

“ _Our_ heart,” Vanitas corrected. Vanitas spread his arms wide, as if to embrace him. “Do you see now? We’re meant to be one! Everything that has happened was just leading up to this moment.”

Vanitas’s steps cracked through the air. Ven, too stunned to speak, did nothing as the other boy approached. Vanitas had always insisted that he and Ven originated from the same heart, but it was this proof that struck him. Vanitas . . . really was a part of him.

But Vanitas didn’t define him, just as Terra wasn’t defined by his origins, or Xion by her home. Vanitas was _not_ him, and Ven would tear his own heart apart if it meant putting an end to his darker half.

He made no sound, just pointed Wayward Wind when Vanitas got too close.

Vanitas responded in turn.

The X-Blade had incredible reach, unlike any weapon he had ever seen before. It soon became apparent that his main dilemma wasn’t dodging or trying to figure out how to actually hurt Vanitas, but getting close enough to do anything in the first place. The platform, while appearing huge, quickly made its boundaries known as Ven scrambled to avoid the X-Blade’s might.

Near the edge, he misjudged a step, and the shockwave from the X-Blade’s swing was enough to knock him over the platform’s edge. The glass was too smooth to grip, sliding away from underneath his fingers. At the last moment, he stabbed his keyblade into the Station, dangling there as Vanitas watched in amusement.

It was hard, but he hauled himself up and began to claw his way back onto the battleground. Then, just as he was bringing his hips over the edge, Vanitas stomped on his hand, pushing him back over with his other foot. Ven barely managed to hang on and helpless, he stared up at his opponent.

Vanitas smiled.

The X-Blade sparkled with a dark power. Vanitas crouched down, moving his lips close to Ven’s ear as if to tell him a great secret. But what Vanitas said made his blood run cold.

“Goodbye.”

With that final farewell, Vanitas stood up, laughing as a beam of energy connected Ven and the X-Blade.

And Ven screamed.

* * *

Hood up, Xion navigated the smouldering town. While it was a welcome change from the icy scene that usually greeted her, she still didn’t like it very much. It stunk of charcoal, and the fires polluted the sky with plumes of black smoke. Even with its terrible secret, Silent Hill had always held an inexplicable beauty. This hell, however, couldn’t be more hideous if it tried. The only good side to this fiery world was that it was easier to see the monsters.

Of course, that meant it was also easier for the monsters to see _her_.

They attacked on sight, although they didn’t seem to chase her far and were few in number. Either Vanitas had decided to ignore her betrayal or more likely, he was too occupied with Ven and his friends to worry about an insignificant thing like her. She felt a flash of anger at that, but also a bit of pride. Vanitas’s arrogance would be his undoing; she would make sure of it.

She pushed open the doors to Brookhaven, walking over the threshold with determined strides. Unlike the times before, Naminé did not come to greet her. A quick search revealed the blonde girl to be shut inside her room, no doubt awaiting the outcome of the events in the church.

“Xion?” From her bed, Naminé looked up from her sketchpad, her crayon ceasing in its movements.

“What are you drawing?” Xion asked.

Naminé shook her head. “I don’t know yet.”

“Are they . . . _can_ they . . .?”

“Anything’s possible,” Naminé said, “but I don’t know if they’re strong enough for this.”

Xion leaned on the side of the white bed, staring intensely at the other girl. “They are,” she said firmly. “They just need a little help.”

“Yes, but there’s nothing we can do. I don’t know how to help anymore.” Naminé looked away, ashamed.

“Nothing?” Xion repeated.

“The battle they’re fighting . . . it’s not on this plane. It’s a different place entirely, a place you will never be able to reach.”

Her eyes hardened. “Because I don’t have a heart.” Xion said that coldly, without passion, but inside, she couldn’t help but be hurt.

“No,” Naminé said, “because you’re not connected to his heart the way they are.”

Absorbing that, Xion sat down on the bed, her back to Naminé. “Then this is the end. Either they’ll win, or he does, and either way, I’ll . . .”

She shut her eyes as the weight of her fate crashed down on her.

“I’m sorry,” Naminé said.

They said nothing more, and the only sound was the scratching of the crayon.

Xion stood up suddenly, and marched over to the door. Naminé halted her drawing yet again, looking up to see what was the cause of the latest disturbance.

“If he’s going to destroy me,” Xion said, “then I won’t go down without a fight.”

“But Xion, you have nothing to fight with.”

“I have an idea.”

She shut the door to Naminé’s room, racing down to the place where she last saw the subject of her current thoughts. Upon entering the cafeteria, she sighed in relief, seeing it still there. Carefully, as if approaching a sleeping lion, she tiptoed up to the table holding Rainfell’s pieces.

She reached out, touched a shard, and then withdrew her hand with a hiss when it _burned_ her.

Sitting on the table’s bench, she stared at the broken keyblade and pleaded. “Please, I know I’m not your master, but I need your help. I can’t fight them without you. I beat the Corruption, but that was only because I had the aglaophotis . . .”

She choked back a sob. “Please, help me.”

She reached out again, praying with all her might.

The shard hummed as it allowed her to grab it.

* * *

He was floating in a sea of darkness. He had the sense that there was something important he had to do, but he couldn’t recall what. The darkness around him was suffocating, soothing, and cloaked him on all sides. Not that he could tell. His eyes remained closed as he fell further into the darkness, his armour gone and no emotion on his face.

There was the sense of being lifted out of his body, a tugging at his heart. He tried to move, to wave away the feeling, but his limbs were as heavy as lead. Oh well. Maybe it was for the best. It wasn’t that bad anyways.

He was so _tired_ . . .

Far above him, there was a dot of light. It grew as something shot downwards, finally smashing into his hands which automatically grasped it. A wave of warmth rolled through him, lending him the strength to open his eyes.

Ven blinked, realizing that Wayward Wind had just come to him.

Sluggishly, he tried to spin himself upright, but sleep tugged at his eyelids, forcing them close. As his muscles went limp, the darkness began to drag him into a deep sleep . . .

_“Wake up, you sleepyhead!”_

He mouthed Aqua’s name.

_“Come on, you can’t be giving up already . . .”_

“Terra . . .”

_“The three of us, we’re family now . . .”_

His eyes shot open. “Terra, Aqua!”

There was darkness all around, and no clue as to where he was. But Ven had been filled with new hope, and he wasn’t going to anything stop him.

“The three of us,” he mumbled, “will always be together.”

His fists clenched in resolve, in rage and in promise.

“Terra, Aqua . . . I swear I’ll put an end to this!”

His keyblade responded to his words, humming in its own pledge as it reformed into his glider. Ven grabbed it, and the keyblade took off. He made no move to steer it, trusting his heart to lead him.

The glider dropped him on the edge of the Station, turning back into his keyblade as Vanitas spun around, fully formed X-Blade in hand.

“What?” he exclaimed. “I destroyed you!”

“Well, guess again!” Ven snarled. “This time, I’ll finish you!”

Vanitas said nothing and charged, the X-Blade spitting out sparks as it was dragged across the glass. Ven watched, oddly calm in face of these events. Vanitas seemed to be moving in slow motion, slower than the heartbeat that pounded in his ears.

Ven closed his eyes. His hand curled over his chest, where his Wayfinder should have been.

“Give me strength,” he whispered.

Vanitas was within a few strides now and grinning in triumph, he raised the X-Blade to strike-

Only for his eyes to widen as the green Wayfinder began to glow.

Ven’s eyes snapped open as his heart responded to the charm’s call. His keyblade glimmered with its own light, driving away the shadows that cloaked Vanitas’s weapon. Moving almost solely on instinct, Ven lunged, hand outstretched . . .

Vanitas swung, missed, and the X-Blade’s tip skimmed Ven’s back. He hardly noticed, too set on his goal. He grabbed the metal chain and it stretched, biting into Vanitas’s neck before giving way completely. And the Wayfinder returned to its true owner, clipping onto his keyblade as if it had a mind of its own.

“What?” Vanitas staggered back, hand closing on the space where the Wayfinder used to be.

“Worried?” Ven asked.

Vanitas growled, “So you got that piece of glass back, big deal!” Vanitas’s words were scornful, but Ven could tell that he had rattled him.

“It’s not just a piece of glass!” Ven snapped. He stared down at the charm, stroking it with his thumb. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Oh? Why not?” Vanitas hissed that like a snake, his shoulders shaking with supressed rage.

“Because you get your power from darkness, from hurting others . . .”

At that moment, the truth finally hit him. He raised his head to look Vanitas straight in the eye, and the universe seemed to echo with his words.

“And if you’re darkness, then I must be light . . .”

A bright white light shone from Wayward Wind, blinding them all for a few seconds. It faded slowly and when it did, Wayward Wind was no longer there.

Instead, Ven was holding a _second_ X-Blade.

Vanitas’s eyes widened. “How . . .? This can’t be . . .”

Ven paid no attention to Vanitas’s disbelief and spoke softly. “You can’t defeat me, Vanitas, because my power comes from something greater than darkness; my friends are my power, and I am theirs. . .”

He slammed his X-Blade into the glass, and the entire Station trembled.

“And as long as they need me, you will _never_ win!”

The last syllable of his sentence tore through the air, ringing in their ears. Chin held high, Ven calmly met Vanitas’s stare. For once, the dark boy was the one whose eyes betrayed fear. But that was quickly masked by hatred and with a wild howl, Vanitas charged.

The two X-Blades clashed, locking together. As the two boys struggled against each other, a ring of energy pulsed through the air. From the glass around them, thick coils of light and darkness rose, carving out a circle around them. The speed of the spinning coils whipped their hair this way and that, and dried the sweat off their faces, but neither boy moved; Ven wasn’t sure if they _could_ move.

“No . . . you can’t . . . this isn’t possible!” Vanitas nearly screamed into his face.

Ven said, “It is now.”

His hands burned with the power flowing through them. The X-Blade was channelling some sort of energy into his body, one that empowered him as much as it hurt. Its tendrils snuck into his heart, feeing a power that before, he hadn’t known existed. Now he felt it swelling, roaring fittingly at the sight of the monster before him.

“I am light,” he whispered to himself.

The coiling circle was blown away. The light and darkness separated, gathering behind their respective masters. Vanitas’s yellow eyes stood out like a lantern’s glow in the bleak darkness that cloaked him, but Ven felt no fear. He was shrouded in his own light, which encircled him like a mother’s embrace.

He closed his eyes. “Terra, Aqua, help me . . .”

The Wayfinder shone even brighter than the light surrounding him, and a powerful surge of energy flowed through him . . .

The X-Blade flew out of Vanitas’s grasp and high into the air, darkness trailing after it. With a clang, it smashed into the glass station, tumbling head-over-heels a couple of times before stopping completely. Vanitas cried out, reaching for it . . .

And Ven thrust at his unprotected chest.


	29. Chapter 29

The darkness clung to him like a second skin, but Terra did not fear it; rather, he fed it handsomely, channelling all his rage into bolstering this new power. In the back of his mind, Master Eraqus’s warnings echoed, but Terra ignored them. He knew that without the darkness to aid him, he would stand no chance against Vanitas.

He roared, the darkness rearing high above him as he closed the distance between him and his opponent. Clenching his jaw, Vanitas raced out of the way, not even bothering to glance back at the dark bolts Terra sent at him. Terra growled; Vanitas was almost as difficult to hit as Ven!

He slammed Earthshaker into the glass platform, revelling in how the entire arena wobbled. He had a moment of panic as he remembered Aqua was sitting at the platform’s edge. However, when the wobbling stopped, she was perfectly safe and he relaxed.

He knew that Vanitas wouldn’t let her fall.

Again, Vanitas leapt out of the way of Terra’s keyblade. Like a mouse dodging the clumsy pounces of a cat, the smaller boy slunk low to the ground, so close that he may have been walking on all fours.

“Stand still, you coward!” Terra shouted.

Terra tried to grab Vanitas as the small boy shot past him, but his fist closed upon empty air. By the time Terra had absorbed that, Vanitas was behind him, watching through narrowed eyes.

“Aren’t you going to fight?” Terra said.

“Why?” Vanitas asked that with genuine confusion, and Terra’s rage was momentarily replaced with confusion. “This has gone far enough. I don’t want to kill you.”

“You . . . huh?” Terra shook his head, letting his anger heat his blood again. “This isn’t about you! This is about what you’re doing to my friends!”

Vanitas actually groaned, hitting his forehead with a hand. “Why don’ t you guys get it? I’m a _part_ of Ventus. Do you really think I want to re-join with that loser?”

“You’re not Ven,” Terra said, “the real Ven would never do what you’re doing. You’re just some creep trying to take over his body!”

Vanitas twitched. “Ventus stole my life from me, and I . . .”

And Terra exploded. “Give it a rest!” he bellowed. “I _don’t care!_ Just let my friends go, both of them, or I’ll destroy you!”

The darkness took over again, wrapping around Terra’s keyblade in thick strands. His eyes flashed yellow, flickered back to blue, before settling on yellow again. The darkness curled around him, giving the illusion of a giant monster standing at his back. Terra, with a cruel sneer on his face, held out a hand to Vanitas. “So, what are you going to do? Release them, or fight?”

Vanitas grunted. “If you insist on fighting . . .”

Terra chuckled darkly. “Oh, I _do_.”

He lunged at Vanitas, who again dove out of the way. But things were different; before, Terra merely used the darkness to bolster his natural strength. Now, he let himself fall completely, indifferent to the consequences so long as he could protect his friends.

Vanitas swept past him, but Terra merely swiped through the air with a free hand, and his darkness lashed out in a flurry of sharp blades. They didn’t just shoot forwards, but everywhere in front of him, carving grooves into the glass and cracking it. Vanitas, having just turned around, cried out in astonishment, and then pain as the darkness sliced into his skin. Blood fell to the ground, congealing in small puddles.

Terra walked forwards slowly, dragging Earthshaker. Vanitas, still glowing a murky green after healing himself, stiffened. A keyblade, one that Terra had never seen before, appeared in his hands. It was long and sharp like a sword, with two crossed keyblades forming the pommel and handle. Weird, but if Vanitas felt so threatened that he had to call upon this new weapon, then Terra was quite pleased with himself.

He tried to snap Vanitas’s new keyblade, but it stubbornly endured the weight of his might. The keyblades hummed and to his shock, Earthshaker began to tremble. Quickly, he stepped back, staring at his keyblade in astonishment. He knew that it wasn’t Vanitas who had caused that, but the power in that weird keyblade.

“What is that?” Terra asked.

“The X-Blade,” Vanitas said, holding it up. “It’s a symbol of my heart joining with Ventus.”

“Can’t be a very strong bond, then.” Terra sneered as he said that, but in reality, he began to sweat. He’d felt the strength of the X-Blade, and it was much more powerful than he was comfortable with.

With the darkness making him swift and light, he wordlessly lunged at Vanitas again. Dark claws reached out in front of him, thick and curved like scythes. With one swipe of the X-Blade, Vanitas destroyed them all, and still managed to bring it back in time to parry Terra’s thrust.

The air between them seemed to crackle with energy. Vanitas leapt back, far back, all the way to the other side of the platform. He landed slowly, on the tips of his toes, as if he had momentarily become weightless.

And they charged. The entire universe seemed to go quiet, so that all Terra heard was the calm beat of his heart as he closed in on his opponent. It was like a countdown, like an official of a race declaring ‘Get set!’. He swept Earthshaker up, holding it with both hands, so that it was perpendicular to the ground right before he stuck.

The keyblades shrieked as they slid down each other’s shaft. The sound made his eardrums want to curl up and die, but he clenched his jaw and forced himself not to react. This was too important to be distracted by something as minuscular as that. Neither had broken stride in that mutual attack, but they slowed now, pushing off of one foot so that they could spin around and run at each other again. Vanitas was smaller, lither, slicing through Terra’s leg just as Terra had completed the turn. It buckled underneath him, nearly sending him to the ground, and he stumbled with a shout of pain and anger. Vanitas, hearing his weakness, pounced, but Terra was ready. He waited, casting a Cura and timing his counter, and then copying Ven, he turned and flung his keyblade at the airborne Vanitas. Although he was clearly caught off-guard, Vanitas managed to deflect Earthshaker; however, the X-Blade was yanked out of his hands.

Leaving him defenseless against Terra’s darkness.

It moved in the form of a spike, seeking to impale the younger boy in the chest. Terra saw Vanitas cloak himself with a dark shield just before the spike made impact, but Terra didn’t let that weaken his resolve. His natural strength was greater than Vanitas; he was confident he would overpower the barrier in the end.

He was wrong. Instead, both of their powers failed at the same time. Terra was right in that he was the strongest in terms of muscle, but Vanitas had been using the darkness much longer. Simply put, Vanitas’s experience made up for his weakness.

They breathed heavily, weighing this new knowledge. It didn’t take Terra more than a second to summon his keyblade back to him; he didn’t care how strong Vanitas was, or if he was a so-called god. Mortal or not, it made no difference to him.

“I don’t understand,” Vanitas said, “how can you have such power?”

“Anything’s possible when you have something to fight for,” Terra said hoarsely.

Vanitas growled. “You think I don’t? I-”

Vanitas was silenced when Terra tried to behead him. “Like I told you before, I don’t care. Unless what you’re saying involves the subjects ‘my friends’ and ‘releasing them’, I don’t give a damn for what you have to say!”

He left no room for Vanitas to respond. Terra had never been one to fight with words, but with his fists. Fists that just happened to have a giant keyblade in them. The glass cracked whenever Terra missed, and those blows that hit the X-Blade would have brought Terra himself to his knees. Yet the X-Blade stayed sleek and sharp, dangerous.

The fight went on, vicious and bloody. His major injuries, Terra healed, as they impeded his movement. However, wounds left over from minor and glancing blows mostly went unhealed. Simply put, Terra didn’t _notice_ them, too caught up in his anger to feel pain.

Darkness clamped around Terra’s ankles, only for his darkness to claw it off. It all happened unconsciously; he didn’t even need to think about it. In this fight, he and the darkness were _one_ , moving in perfect sync. When his overreaching swings left him open, the darkness moved to shield him; when he saw it fit to attack, the darkness fused with his keyblade and strengthened him. And although Vanitas had the strongest and longest keyblade, there was no denying that it was Terra who was winning their brawl. Vanitas could hardly make contact without Terra’s darkness clawing and tearing at his bodysuit.

Blood covered the glass around them, lying in randomly strewn puddles. Somehow, the area around Aqua managed to stay clean, though that didn’t lessen the horror of it. Now, he and Vanitas stood across from each other, keyblades hanging, hearts pounding with anticipation. This was it; he could feel it.

They charged, leapt, blades colliding in mid-air. Terra twisted, sliding Earthshaker under the X-Blade and towards Vanitas’s vulnerable midsection . . .

And it was done. He landed hard, keyblade glistening with fresh blood. Behind him, Vanitas tumbled onto the ground, splotches of red marking the place where he had landed. The god of Silent Hill struggled to stand, but failed, and fell into a pool of his own blood.

It was over.

“Aqua!” Terra ran over, collapsing to his knees beside her. She still wasn’t talking, but when he lifted her chin, her eyes focused on him. Fighting back tears, he stroked her cheek with his thumb, hurriedly drawing his hand back when he saw that he was getting blood on her face.

He glanced sideways at the sleeping Ven, and his darkness shot out to grab him. Easily, it severed the vines tying the young boy to the glass, and dragged him over the way a dog would drag its unconscious master. Terra scooped Ven up, cradling him in one arm. The other he wound around Aqua’s shoulders, needing to touch her.

He closed his eyes, sobbing dryly. It was over. He had them _back –_

Metal screeched against glass.

Ven slipped to the ground as Terra stood, mouth dropping open at the sight of not one, but two Bogeyman. One held the giant knife, the other, a lance, and both marched towards him with no hesitation.

Terra stepped back.

“You put up a good fight,” Vanitas said, “but enough is enough.”

Terra roared, and sent the darkness to attack. It struck true – he _saw_ it cut into the Bogeymen’s skin – but they didn’t react. No blood fell from their wounds. It was as if he had done nothing.

“They are born from darkness,” Vanitas said, “they do not fear it.”

That seemed to be true, and it was horrible because Terra feared them.

He fought, fought as viciously as a cornered lion, but his strength was nothing compared to theirs. He felt himself grow weaker from the strain of his many Cura spells and wounds, and his breathing became laboured and sluggish. He knew, even before it happened, that this was not a battle he would win.

Which one dealt the blow that forced him to his knees, he did not know, but he knew which one came next. The Bogeyman’s lance tore through his upper leg, bursting through on the other side, and pinned him to the glass. He cried out in pain, his sweat-soaked fingers losing their grip on his faithful keyblade. The smack of Earthshaker hitting the ground was like the banging of a judge’s gavel, condemning him.

“Game over,” Vanitas said softly. He walked over so that he could look straight at Terra, who snarled at him. “This would be so much easier if Xion hadn’t killed the Corruption, but beggars can’t be choosers.”

He pointed the X-Blade at Terra. “I’ll finish this with a more personal touch. Sorry, Terra, but this _is_ going to hurt.”

Vanitas said nothing more, but his keyblade began to glow. And then a beam shot from the tip of it, connecting with Terra’s chest.

Terra’s head whipped back in a silent scream. This was pain unlike anything he had endured before, like his skin was on fire or a million needles were forcing their way into his flesh. He could feel something inside him _moving,_ burrowing through his flesh and concentrating around a single point: his heart. The darkness inside him raged as it was torn to shreds, and to his terror, he could feel himself growing hollow as Vanitas began to remove everything that made Terra himself.

“Give up,” Vanitas said, shadows weaving around his feet. “Once you entered this town, you sealed your fate. There is no escape from Silent Hill.”

Terra arched his back, shaking as his sanity started to erode . . .

A cool wave swept through him, soothing the burns that Vanitas’s spell had left. The great vice upon his heart weakened. In the air around him, the shell of a Reflect spell glimmered in and out of existence. Slowly, he raised his head to meet Aqua’s terrified stare. She had her keyblade out, but it was _weird_. The colours were all wrong, and it made Terra angry when he looked at it.

“ _No!_ ” Vanitas snapped. “Stay out of this!”

With a flick of his wrist, Aqua’s strange keyblade exploded into a thousand motes of darkness, taking her spell with it. At the same time, Aqua screamed, clutching her head, and collapsed to the ground. But while Vanitas was distracted with her, Terra reached back and pulled the lance out of his flesh. Strings of gore followed it, and he tried his best not to look. He tossed the lance to the floor, drawing the attention of the Bogeymen, who shambled towards him.

He forced himself to stand through the pain. He had one chance, and that was it.

As the Bogeymen closed in, he raised Earthshaker, which was crackling with the power of a shot-lock.

He aimed, and fired.

Just as he hoped, the Bogeymen faltered and groaned when the shot-lock ripped through their master’s defenses. Vanitas screamed, but when the shot-lock ended, he wasn’t holding the place where Terra’s attack had hit him. Instead, he clutched at his chest, right over where his heart laid. Vanitas stumbled back, face twisted in pain, and Terra could only take pleasure in the sight.

Unbeknownst to them, close to where Aqua laid incapacitated, blue eyes drifted open.    

The Bogeymen began to move again, and Terra hesitated. To fight them, he would have to turn his back on Vanitas, and he wasn’t sure for how long Vanitas would be distracted . . .

Not long, it appeared. “ _You_!” Vanitas snarled. “I’ve had enough of-!”

Vanitas had attempted to brandish his keyblade, but as he raised it skywards, it suddenly crumbled.

“No!” Despair written all over his face, Vanitas reached for the falling X-Blade. But he was too slow, and then the X-Blade was gone as suddenly as it had appeared.

“So, that’s it, huh?”

Even the Bogeymen froze at the sound of that voice. All heads turned to face Ven, who had risen to his feet and was staring at his darker half with utter hatred in his eyes.

“How . . .?” Vanitas choked on his question.

Ven ignored him. “Terra, we need to go.”

Terra nodded, reading the other apprentice’s mind.

Before Vanitas could gather his wits, Ven thrust his keyblade into the air and screamed, “Light!” The explosion blinded Vanitas and the Bogeymen, the latter raising their meaty hands to shield their hidden eyes. Protecting his own eyes, Terra rushed forwards, scooping up Aqua easily and throwing her over his shoulder, then yanked Ven along by the arm. Together, they raced for the exit.

But Vanitas saw them and with a snap of his fingers, the Bogeymen disappeared and then rematerialized at the exit. Terra and Ven skidded to a halt, backing away.

“Going somewhere?” Vanitas asked.

Terra growled, but it was Ven who spoke. “As a matter of fact, we are, and you’re not stopping us!”

Vanitas laughed. “As if you could! I control this town; you’re not going anywhere.”

And the smile that crossed Terra’s face was triumphant and cruel. “Is that so?”

Ven, sensing the change in his friend, backed away. With one deft move, Terra passed off Aqua to him, and took up Earthshaker in both hands.

“This ends here!” he hollered.

He drove his keyblade into the glass station with all his strength, all his rage. The glass cracked, dipping up and down in a wave, knocking over everyone save him and Ven. As the stunned Bogeymen fell out of the way, the two of them ran for the exit, leaping over the great knife.

Ven shot up the stairs, but Terra lingered. He slammed Earthshaker into the glass one more time, and then the station shattered completely. The Bogeymen fell, disappearing into the darkness below.

Ignoring Vanitas’s furious cries, Terra turned, and ran for the exit. They raced up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and then Terra ripped open the trapdoor to the church.


	30. Chapter 30

The force of his entrance nearly tore the poor trapdoor from its hinges. Indeed, there were cracks visible in the wood by the time the trapdoor fell to rest. With Aqua still slung over his shoulder, Terra emerged from the depths of the church, radiating an aura of war.

Ven clambered out next to him, his keyblade held tightly with both hands. His blue eyes flickered towards the exit, and then back to Terra as the older apprentice glowered at the remains of The Order. Xigbar’s body hadn’t been touched, and it was slumped clumsily against a pew, the ground around him shiny with blood; the green-eyed blond was leaning against a wall, bent over as he held in his insides; Lexaeus and Zexion were nowhere to be found. Xaldin and Xemnas, however, were still standing, calm amidst the carnage. The two cloaked men saw them, and a poisonous smile spread across Xaldin’s face. Compared to Xemnas’ utter lack of emotion, the contrast was creepy.

And crumpled not far from their feet, was Ansem.

He was a man who clearly was seriously injured, if not dying. A diagonal wound nearly severed his torso from his lower half, and there were several smaller cuts all over his body. Terra could tell exactly which wounds had been delivered by whom; the ones made by Xemnas were burnt at the edges, black on flesh that was too red and pale.

Ven whimpered. With his free hand, Terra shoved the younger boy behind him, standing as tall and wide as he could in order to hide Ven from view. It was too late, of course, but it made Terra feel better. He passed off Aqua to Ven, and then took a deliberate step forwards, like a wolf confronting an intruder on its territory. His message was clear: _Stay away from them. Ansem too, or I’ll kill you_.

Xemnas’ ethereal blades crackled in their own message.

“Ven,” Terra murmured, “I’m going to grab Ansem, and then I need you to cast the strongest shield you can.”

Ven looked up at him, confused.

Terra shrugged. “Normally, I’d ask Aqua, but . . .”

He gazed down at his friend, who even in unconsciousness seemed to be in pain.

“Okay,” Ven said, “just tell me when.”

“Oh, you’ll know when.”

Terra grinned. Xaldin and Xemnas had no clue about the lengths he would go to in order to protect his friends.

He reached up towards the hidden sky, summoned the magic deep instead of him, and hollered, “ _Meteor_!”

It seemed like nothing happened, but then Terra felt it – the gnawing of magic as it left his core. He smiled triumphantly, leaping forwards in the lapse offered by Xemnas and Xaldin’s confusion, and snagging Ansem by the back of his shirt. Terra didn’t drag him back gently, and swore that a soft groan escaped the older man.

“Now!” he hissed.

Ven cast his spell, and Terra added his own strength to it. The barrier shimmered in the air, covering their heads like a roof, but offering no protection against the two men that faced them.

Xaldin laughed. “And just how is this foolish action supposed to –”

He never finished. Or maybe he did, and no one could hear. How could you, when a thousand pounds of red-hot rock was crashing through the ceiling? The meteor was merciless in its decent, smashing through wood, brick and stone as easily as Terra could rip through a wall made of paper. A violent rain battered the barriers as flaming rubble fell from the sky. The meteor itself was impossible to look at, too bright for one’s eyes to handle. The world shook, roaring, and a blanket of heat evaporated the sweat off their skin.

A blinding flash of light. A sonic boom.

The magical barrier flexed, groaning as Terra and Ven fought to keep it going.

And then a wave of energy, too powerful to be denied, swept them off their feet and destroyed the spell. Terra grabbed Ven and Aqua, throwing them atop of Ansem, and then hunched over all of them himself, shielding his friends with his body.

And within ten seconds, it was all over.

Terra groaned, his back scarlet from the many shards that had slashed through his back. He spent a few critical moments repairing it, gasping in relief when the cool magic swept over him. When he ran a finger over his back, he could feel the scars left over from the wounds; he wished Aqua was awake, as her spells never left scars.

Meanwhile, Ven was funnelling his magic into saving Ansem’s life, and Terra left him to it as he slowly stood and studied the church – or what was left of it.

Only the back wall had been left standing. It was blackened and crumbling at the ends, almost sheared in half by the force radiated by the meteor. Of the stone itself, there was no trace; like all magic, it had disappeared once its time was up. But it had left its mark: the roof was gone, replaced by a gaping hole that revealed the stars which even as he watched, were being hidden by a dense fog. The pews were nothing more than smoking charcoal, creating a bitter scent that coated the inside of his mouth. Piles of rubble laid in various places inside the room, in no describable pattern.

Beyond the shattered remains of the left wall, the blond-haired man lay limp on the road, still bleeding from his earlier wounds.  He saw no signs of either Xemnas or Xaldin

The ground rumbled, and not from the aftermath of the meteor. “We have to go, now,” Terra said. He scooped up Aqua with one arm. “Ansem, can you walk?”

“I can,” the old man said, “but I won’t be going with you.”

“What?” Ven said. “Why?”

Ansem laughed sadly. “I am old, my friends, and these legs will only slow you down. And there is . . . another matter that I still need to take care of here. You must leave without me.”

Ven was protesting, but both Terra and Ansem ignored him. In the older man, Terra saw the same unyielding determination that had led himself this far – and the calm acceptance that laced the other’s thoughts. He knew that there would be no changing Ansem’s mind, or saving him from the void that beckoned his soul.

“Be careful,” Terra said. “I don’t want to see you become one of them.”

Ansem smirked. “Don’t worry about me. I’ve denied the town this long, I won’t let it take me now.”

Terra nodded. “Come on, Ven. We have to go.”

“But . . .”

“But nothing. We’re going, _now_.”

He left no room for argument and hoisted Ven along by the upper arm. He didn’t know when Vanitas would come after them, but he was willing to bet it would be soon.

They made good progress, until they hit the first houses beyond the church. Then, Aqua started to convulse, digging her nails into his back as she struggled for breath.

“What’s wrong with her?” Ven asked as Terra laid her on the ground.

“I . . . I don’t know.” Terra tried to wake her, going so far as to slap her again. But although Aqua’s eyes were open, she wasn’t awake. Instead, her eyes rolled up into her head, as foam built at the corners of her mouth.

“A-aqua?” Terra swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat.

Suddenly, Ven gasped. “Of course!” He rummaged in his pocket, pulling out a small vial filled with red liquid. “Terra, help me make her drink this!”

“What. . .?”

“Just trust me!”

He did. Terra held her down by the arms as she snarled and fought beneath him. When she paused, coughing as she tried to catch her breath, Ven lunged. He held her chin in place, preventing her from turning away, and emptied the vial into her open mouth. As the first drops touched her tongue, she went still, as if she understood what was happening.

She remained still even after it was all gone. A minute passed, then another.

“Ven,” he growled, “what did you do?”

“Nothing!” the younger boy said. “It was supposed to cure her.”

Terra grabbed Ven by the collar, screaming into his face. “What did you do?”

He was stopped by a cough.

“Aqua!”

Her blue eyes opened, focusing weakly on Terra’s face. “Your eyes . . .” she murmured. Then, quite suddenly, her body underwent a spasm, and she curled up on her side. Terra rubbed her back, helping her sit up with his other hand. Then, just after she had sat up, she lurched forwards.

He wasn’t sure what she was spitting up. It looked like oil, and stained the ground underneath her like oil would, but it had a bitter scent.

_Is that . . . darkness?! Was all of that inside her?_

He held her up, keeping her from falling face-first into the darkness her body had rejected. When it was over, he hugged her to his chest while she shivered violently, her forehead drenched with sweat.

“It’s okay,” Terra murmured, sweeping her bangs out of her eyes. “I got you.”

She sobbed, burying her face into his shirt.

“Terra, look.” Ven tugged on Aqua’s sleeve. “The bruise is gone.”

“Ven,” Terra said, “I don’t think that’s important right . . .”

Ven wasn’t paying attention anymore, but pointing over Terra’s shoulder. Terra followed Ven’s prompting, and his eyes widened at what he saw. At the edge of the fog, stood a hound. How long had it been there, watching them? How many others were coming their way?

“Get up,” he grunted, as he hauled Aqua to her feet. She leaned entirely on him for support, whimpering as she glanced from side to side. “Everybody, keyblades out.”

Earthshaker returned to him, the metal still warm from when he had last fought with it. He grasped it tight in one hand, and used the other to keep Aqua standing. Inching towards him, Ven summoned his own keyblade, which shimmered with a bright light. Terra waited for Rainfell to materialize next to him, clearing his throat when the blue keyblade failed to appear.

“Terra,” Ven said, “she doesn’t have her keyblade anymore.”

He blinked. “What?”

“The Bogeyman destroyed it.”

The Bogeyman destroyed her keyblade? It was nearly impossible to wrap his head around and after a few moments of trying, he decided to pretend that he didn’t hear anything. With his free arm, he swung Aqua behind him, nearly pressing her into the wall as he backed up.

_If it’s just one, we can fight it,_ he thought, _but there might be others hiding in the fog. How do I know?_

“Ven, that light spell you used before, does it get rid of the fog?”

“Not really,” the younger boy said, “maybe a little bit of it, but not much.”

Terra swore under his breath, eyeing the hound that continued to stand there. His blood boiled with the urge to kill it, but caution and concern for his friends held him back.

_Let me see . . ._ Terra wasn’t sure who he was pleading with, but that didn’t stop him. _Just let me see . . ._

Unbeknownst to him, his golden eyes brightened. And just like that, he could _see_ ; not as he normally did, like he would be able to if the fog went away. It was more like a sixth sense, and he could locate the approaching figures just like a dog could tell where someone was just through scent. What he saw, the sheer amount, was enough to dissuade him from any ideas of fighting.

“Terra . . .”

He propelled Ven forwards. “Run!”

* * *

He was a ghost in the fog, a small, lost figure that swayed this way and that. The thick hood of his cloak hid his face from view, but if one had been able to see past the darkness, what they would have seen was unimpressive. Once, it was sharp and proud, but now it was a thin, pale face, with one blue eye that was both too cold and too disturbed. The silver hair that passed over the other one felt more like a shield than anything else, sparing the man from seeing the full horrors of the world.

For in this dark world, Zexion had always been little more than a mouse: cowardly, feeding off the scraps of others, a shadow that went unnoticed. He did not possess the lust for power that Xemnas did, nor the hidden psychotic natures of Xigbar and Xaldin, or even the utter apathy of Vexen. All he had was a curiosity that went too far. To Silent Hill’s God, he had little to offer and so, was paid that amount of respect. In this world, his only ally was Lexaeus.

But even Lexaeus hadn’t said anything when he left. True, he could not blame the man; Zexion had left in the middle of a battle. In fact, Lexaeus had probably been relieved to see him go. Not much fighting could be done with a lexicon. Still, it stung to think that even though he was part of this fabled cult, he was still so insignificant.

So, he walked the streets alone, unloved, unwanted. But wait, his mind reminded him, there had been a time, a time that felt so very long ago, and maybe, just maybe. . .

No, that dream had died, gone to its grave with Ansem’s arrival at the church, and Zexion knew that there was no light waiting for him at the end. For not the first time, he stopped in the middle of the road, and stared up at the hidden stars above.

“Why me?” he whispered.

The word echoed. _Why . . . Why . . ._

A step in the distance. Zexion spun around. His hand rose to his hood by instinct, making sure it was firmly in place. The shadow that emerged, it was a hulking one, and for a moment, Zexion was gripped with the conviction that Pyramid Head had finally come for him.

But it was a person who emerged, Lexaeus to be exact, face cold and guarded. He did not carry his axe-sword, but Zexion felt words – his true weapon – coil inside him anyways.

“Lexaeus.” The word was said as a greeting, but in truth, it was a test of the waters he found himself in.

Lexaeus clamped a hand down on Zexion’s shoulder. “Come.”

The direction Lexaeus pulled him in was not towards the church, so he obeyed. “Where are we going?” he asked quietly.

“Somewhere,” Lexaeus said.

Zexion stared at him in surprise, but Lexaeus did not elaborate.

They walked in silence, sticking to the main roads. Although even these parts could change at any time, it was in smaller, enclosed spaces or indoors that the town liked to change most. There, in the darkness, it could become anything. Even though Zexion was familiar with this area, once the town acted, it would become a foreign land. If the town decided it wanted to place a gaping hole in the middle of the street, then it would do so. It didn’t matter if it was illogical; if the darkness willed it, so be it.

“How long have we been here?” Lexaeus said suddenly.

Zexion said, “I don’t know. Time is frozen here.”

“Indeed, and yet I feel so old . . .” Lexaeus’ voice faded, his unspoken words becoming nothing more than a sigh.

Zexion nodded thoughtfully, the weariness of his mind echoing that sentiment.

The fog began to close in. Lexaeus wiped his damp hands on his cloak, studying their surroundings with no small amount of fear. There was a screech from above, and they turned their chins skywards to meet the harsh eyes of a raven. The black bird circled over the two wandering figures, shrieking again, before flapping off into the distance.

“I may have to leave you soon,” Lexaeus said.

“And where shall you be?”

Lexaeus stared straight ahead. His mouth did not move.

“Lexaeus, where are we going?” he asked again.

Lexaeus sighed. “Away.”

Away? The answer nearly floored him. “They will come after us. They will take us back.” He said that with certainty, speaking from experience.

“No,” Lexaeus said, “the God’s eyes are elsewhere today.”

Yes, that was true. They were on Ventus, on Terra, on the girl. On Ansem. Again, Zexion saw him in his mind, clashing against the full might of the Order. It was a scene from a fairy-tale, a father having risen to answer his son’s prayers. Only, they were not the protagonists of this story; no, that role had been given to the God himself and so, Ansem lay dead at the hands of his foes.

“Did he . . . did he have time to say . . .?”

He could not speak the rest, because there was something so damning about saying ‘ _his final words_ ’.

“Yes,” Lexaeus answered. “He said them to me.”

Zexion wrung his hands together. “And what did he say?”

Lexaeus raised his eyebrows. “Haven’t you figured it out?”

He had the feeling that he should have, the feeling that yes, he did know, but he couldn’t describe exactly what that idea was. And it was painful to think that he had been isolated for so long that he could no longer predict Ansem’s dying wish.

“Are we bad people?” Zeion asked.

“We did not ask for this,” Lexaeus said, “nor did we ever want it, even after it was forced upon us.”

“But in the end, we still did what was asked of us, yes?”

Lexaeus did not have an immediate response and they were permanently distracted from that topic when a figure lurched out of the fog. Spinning around and shielding Zexion behind him in one smooth move, Lexaeus summoned his giant axe-sword, holding it above his head with both hands as he prepared to crush his enemy’s skull. But Zexion’s hiss stopped him, as did the sight before him.

“Stay your weapon,” a horribly weakened, but still alive, Ansem ordered.

Obediently, Lexaeus let his axe-sword fall to the ground. “How are you still living?”

Ansem hobbled over, one arm wrapped around his midsection where that terrible wound had been before. “Ventus is more talented at magic than I dared imagine. Mind you, it is not completely healed.”

Indeed, Ansem’s face was extremely pale, and Zexion harboured the suspicion that he was either fighting the urge to vomit, or the urge to faint. Perhaps even both. In his memory, Ansem had always been a strong, proud man, never one to falter or show weakness no matter the task put out before him. But here, Zexion saw a man whose age had finally caught up to him. The blond hair and goatee seemed white and ragged, and Ansem was hunched as if it hurt him to stand straight. Still, those orange eyes were bright and alert, and Ansem’s hand cupped the pommel of his sword.

“We must make haste,” Ansem said. “There is no telling how much time we have.”

Zexion shook his head in disbelief. “Ansem . . .”

“No. Not now. First, we flee. Then, we talk.”

* * *

“This way!”

Terra pulled Ven and Aqua into an alley as the howls of the hounds bounced off the walls around them. He had absolutely no idea where they were going, but they had to get away from the monsters somehow.

“Thundaga!” There was the stench of burning flesh as Ven’s spell incinerated a monster that had leapt at them from a rooftop. Terra swore; they had been found already? Without pausing to think, he led the other two to the end of the alley, where he helped them over a stone wall.

Hounds snarled, clawing and leaping at the wall as Terra heaved himself over. On Aqua’s suggestion, a quick Blizzard spell made the stone too slick for any of the monsters to climb. Still, they wouldn’t be held back for long; the trio had to move before they were trapped in this alleyway.

They ran out into the street, barely managing to duck out of sight when some birds flew overhead. From there, Terra led his sorry group into a dark store, and shut the door hard behind him.

All of them were panting for breath. Terra, worried that if he sat down now, he wouldn’t be able to get up again, walked over to the store’s wide glass windows and looked outside. So far, so good, but their pursuers could close in at any moment. He looked back at his friends. Aqua looked about ready to pass out and although Ven’s limitless energy hadn’t failed him, he looked small and wretched, like a bird that had been batted around by a cat.

He turned his eyes back to the outside, to the white sky that called to him. He wished he and his friends could just hop on their gliders and be done with it, but he was certain that he had seen Vanitas up there, waiting. Right now, with the thick fog and the three of them so weak, he couldn’t take that risk, not while Vanitas was still a wild card.

“Terra,” Ven said. He stared at his intertwined hands as he sat on a chair.

“Yeah?”

“You . . . you don’t know the way out, do you?”

Aqua stirred, focusing all her attention on the flabbergasted Terra, who could only stare at Ven with his mouth hanging open. For his part, the younger boy displayed no remorse, only a seriousness that should have been on the face of someone older.

“I don’t,” Terra admitted.

Ven nodded, leaning back in his chair. They could almost hear the last bit of hope being sucked out of the group.

“I can’t believe it’s going to end like this,” Terra whispered. “I always thought . . .”

_That I’d die_ for _you guys, not_ with _you. . ._

“Do you think the Master will look for us?” Ven asked.

Terra didn’t say anything, as all of them knew the answer. He tried to tell himself that Master Eraqus was different, that he could handle whatever the town threw at him. But in his heart, Terra knew otherwise; If Eraqus came looking for them here – and he would – then he was as good as dead.

“The real question we should be asking is what is Vanitas going to do with us?” Terra said.

“Kill me,” Ven said immediately.

Terra closed his eyes, remembering how he had almost borne witness to that truth. He also already knew what would happen to Aqua; what he didn’t know was whether his fate would be the same.

She spoke so softly that the first time, Terra wasn’t sure if she had actually spoken. But then she repeated that one word, stronger and louder, and her lips hardened into a frown.

“No?” Terra repeated.

Aqua acted as though she hadn’t heard him. “Remember that promise we made when we were kids, Terra?”

Terra shrugged. “We made a lot of empty promises.”

“This one wasn’t empty, it was real. Don’t you remember, Terra?” Aqua stood and walked over to him. Even without her keyblade, she had a strength that he admired. “We both promised that we would become Masters together; that neither of us would give up until we had earned that title.”

Her hand found his.

“I’m not ready to give up on that,” she whispered.

He swallowed, finding it hard to breathe. Aqua’s gaze was suddenly too intense and he ducked his head, feeling the heat rush to his cheeks.

“There’s always a way, Terra.”

Hearing her say his name gave him enough courage to look her in the eyes. His hand tightened around hers, as if protecting it.

“Always,” he echoed.

A small bell chimed as the door to the store opened and as one, the three of them spun around to face the intruder, the boys with their keyblades drawn. The intruder’s face was hidden by her hood, but the height alone told them who it was.

“Xion!” Ven leapt to his feet, eager to greet his friend.

Xion made no move to pull down her hood, and Terra was suddenly hit with a suspicion that this wasn’t her after all. However, when she spoke, it was a girl’s voice he heard, and he relaxed. A bit.

“You got away,” she said.

Terra nodded at her. “It wasn’t easy.”

“You know the way out, right?” Ven said, nearly begging. “Can you help us out of here?”

“I can tell you the way out, but you won’t make it, not without a distraction. There are too many monsters out there.”

 “I’ll do it,” Terra said immediately. He ripped his eyes away from Aqua’s face as she tried to plead with him. “I’ve always been the slowest of the three of us, and I can put up enough of a fight to give you guys a good chance.”

“No!” Ven cried, running up to the eldest apprentice. “You can’t!”

 “He’s right, Terra,” Aqua said. “Ven won’t get out of here on his own, and I’m . . . I’m _useless_. Without Rainfell, the only thing I can do is . . .”

Both he and Ven knew exactly where she was going with this, and they cut her off with an angry growl of, “No.”

“It has to be me,” Ven said softly. “He wants you and Aqua, but I’m the one he needs. He won’t take the bait if it’s not me.”

“That’s enough, Ven!” Terra snapped. “Both of you, get it in your heads: it’s not going to be either of you.”

Xion said, “Ven’s right, Terra. Vanitas will go wherever Ven goes.”

Ven sighed. “Then that’s that.” He stood with his head bowed and eyes closed, like a doomed man waiting for the hangmen to tie the noose around his neck. “Xion, get them out of here. I’ll take care of Vanitas.”

“Ven, stop it!” she barked, much to all of their surprise. “You’re not going to be the distraction either. If he gets hold of you, then everything’s over.”

“Then what . . . ?”              

“I’ll be the distraction, but Vanitas won’t know it’s me.”

With that last declaration, Xion pulled her hood down, and all of them gasped. It wasn’t a girl they saw, but a male – Ven. Terra looked from Xions face to Ven’s, unable to find a difference. If it weren’t for their different outfits and Xion’s thin figure under that cloak, he wouldn’t have been able to tell them apart. But then Xion shed the dark cloak, and she and Ven were identical.

“I’m not as good as an illusionist as some people are,” Xion said, “but I’ll be able to keep this one going.”

Ven shook his head in vehement denial. “Xion . . .”

She smiled. “I told you Ven, that I would never be able to go with you. Still, you guys set me free, and the least I can do is return the favour. Head down that road, and try to stay hidden. Don’t fly – you’ll just fly into the fog and lose yourselves. Take a left at the second intersection, and that route will take you out of town. Hopefully, Vanitas won’t have any idea that he’s chasing the wrong person until it’s too late.”

“And if he does?” Terra asked.

“Run.”


	31. Chapter 31

They watched silently as the disguised Xion dashed out of the store, and down the road in the opposite direction from the one she had told them to go. Hardly a minute passed before the first howls rose. Terra launched himself at his friends, throwing them behind a counter as the hounds thundered by. They stayed for ten, twenty seconds before Terra let them up again. The silence mournful, they stared off into the distance where Xion had long disappeared.

“Let’s go,” Terra said.

Aqua listened to him, but Ven was hesitating. “Xion . . .”

“There’s nothing we can do for her,” Terra grunted, aware of how cold that sounded.

Aqua took over for him, and gently hugged the younger apprentice. “She made her choice, Ven. Don’t let her down now.”

Ven gulped and nodded.

“If you two are done,” Terra said, “we need to get a move on.”

Aqua scowled, berating him for his insensitivity. However, in light of their current predicament, Terra found that he didn’t really care. She could despise him for all it mattered, so long as he got them out of here.

Terra went outside first, creeping alongside the store’s window. At his signal, Aqua and Ven followed him, their backs pressing against the glass. Together, the three of them broke away from the wall and ran to the next building, catching their breath underneath an awning. He and Ven stiffened, spying something shambling through the fog, but there was a whispered command from Aqua, and then they were casting Blizzard and Aero respectively. The wind spell whipped the snow around them, adding to the shelter offered by the fog, and thickened it to the extent that the figure passed without seeing them.

Releasing a deep breath, Terra continued to lead them to safety.

At some point in their journey, there was a scream. At once, Ven tried to rush to its aid and even Aqua, helpless as she was, took a step in that direction. But Terra grabbed them by the shoulders and held them back. “It’s a trick,” he told them. “I fell for it a few times.”

“But what if it isn’t?” Ven asked.

Ven and Aqua stared at him, waiting for Terra to say something wise that would ease their worrying.

Instead, he remained silent.

They continued to creep through the shadows. Terra felt like a rabbit scourging for food, hoping that the wolf didn’t spot it. He only prayed that the monsters did not search with their noses, because after all those fights, Terra was sure that he – if not all of them – stunk. Indeed, he could pick up the scent of burnt metal and wood from the other two.

He suddenly threw out an arm to block his friends. “Wait,” he murmured.

Out of the mouth of the alley in front of them, stumbled a huge monster. It was about the size of a Bogeyman, though it lacked the weaponry or the general sense of fear that the latter inspired. It had no hands, but thick arms with curved ends, as if they had been severed at the wrist. The creature, bellowing, swung its squat head towards them, and that’s when Terra saw that it had no eyes or nose. It must use sound to find its prey, then. He moved quickly, before Ven summoned his keyblade or Aqua retreated, and made a gesture for them to be quiet.

They watched in terrified awe as the creature shambled past them into the street. Each step it took made the ground quiver, and Terra could only think of how glad he was that they didn’t have to fight it. They waited long after it disappeared from sight, until the ground stopped shaking, and then continued on their journey.

They were walking along the sidewalk when Ven suddenly stopped with a strangled cry. Terra whipped around, blinking in confusion when didn’t find an enemy. He looked questioningly at Ven, who shook his head as he stared at the shell of a building.

“It happened here,” he said, “Master Xehanort . . .”

Terra took a closer look at the building. What he had taken for the destruction caused by the town’s transformation he now saw to be signs of a great battle. Not a place had been left untouched, and there were massive holes left behind from that ancient fight. Darkness rose from the ruin, like smoke.

“How long ago do you think that was?” Aqua whispered.

“I don’t know,” Terra said. “Ven, how did you know it happened here?”

Ven said, “I was briefly one with Vanitas in that church. I’ve inherited some of his memories.”

Terra shuddered as he imagined what kind of horrors Ven had borne witness to.

They ducked again as birds flew overhead. When he was sure they were gone, Terra waved his friends to stand up again. Aqua did so, but Ven remained on the ground, clutching his head between his hands.

“Ven?” Aqua gently touched his shoulder.

“How many more places like this are there?” Ven choked out. He gasped for breath, eyes bulging as he began to hyperventilate. “How many more did he kill?”

Terra swore. While it was something he wondered too, this was the worst possible time to try and figure that out. He grabbed Ven’s arm, but the younger boy ripped away, shaking violently.

“I can see them,” he moaned. “I can see their faces as they died.”

Terra bit his lip, and made a quick decision. They weren’t about to leave Ven behind, even if he wasn’t about to recover on his own anytime soon. He grabbed Ven and slung him over his back. Thankfully, Ven had enough sense left to latch on for a piggyback.

Terra nodded at Aqua, and they went back on the move.

* * *

Xion gasped for breath, her hand uselessly pressed against her left shoulder as she tried to stop the bleeding. In her other hand, she held the jagged shard of Rainfell, which was shiny with her blood and black ichor. She dove underneath a car, her eyes tightly closed as the hounds ran past her. They used scent to track their prey, but Xion wasn’t actually Ven; she was made of darkness and thus, invisible to them. Still, if they heard her, it wouldn’t make a difference.

She wished she could stay under this car, stay safe, but that wasn’t an option. If the dogs thought they had lost her, they would separate, scour the town, and eventually come across Ven and his friends. No, she had to keep the monsters chasing her.

She rolled out from under the car, leaving a small red stain on the ground. Returning pressure to the wound, she staggered away from the car, hunching as she walked.

A growl.

She whipped around just in time to see the hound’s paws leave the ground. She swung her piece of Rainfell, but it was too soon, too fast, and she missed by an inch. In the wake of her attack, she was left wide open, and the full weight of the hound crashed into her.

Paws pinned her to the ground. Claws dug into her chest as the monster growled, its muzzle hovering dangerously close to her face. Whimpering, she twisted, trying to bring her weapon to a place where she could use it. The stench of rotting meat greeted her as the hound’s jaws opened, and it lunged, sinking its teeth into her upper arm.

She screamed, dropping the shard, beating at the hound’s head with her fist as it started to shake. To her terror, she could hear more baying in the distance, celebrating as they closed in on their quarry. The force of the dog’s shakes shifted her position on the ground, and she felt one of Rainfell’s points touch her side.

Her fingers groped for it, found the shard, and it cut into her palm as she gripped it with all her might. She swung it up and over in an arc, and straight into the side of the hound’s head.

It did not drop dead as she had hoped. Instead, it screamed, and a tuff of fur landed on her nose as the hound tore its head away from the shard. She stabbed at the air, trying to drive the monster back, but it stared at her impassively, canines bore in a snarl. It leapt again, this time aiming for her neck. She automatically held her hands up, as if to push it away, and brought up Rainfell with her.

The hound’s neck slammed into Rainfell, which emerged on the other side. With a strangled yelp, it went deathly still, and the legs fell limp. The hound slumped to the ground, with Rainfell imbedded in its neck.

Quickly, she pulled the shard out and forced herself to stand. The others were on their way, and she had to run now.

She ran into the fog with no destination in mind. The pain from all of her injuries was making it hard to think straight, and the ground underneath seemed felt like it was swaying. Still, she had enough wits about her for this task; she could keep them running for at least a little while longer.

In the corner of her vision, she saw a figure . . .

Void Gear slashed through her side.

It took all of her strength not to scream. Instead, she crumpled to the ground silently. It was still her own voice she used, not Ven’s, and if she dared speak, then it was over. Curled up on the ground, she sobbed silently, the tears making her vision blurry.

Vanitas loomed above her, watching.

She gritted her teeth, and then swung desperately, hoping to hurt the one who had made her life hell.

He didn’t even blink before he caught her wrist.

Holding her wrist so hard that it hurt, he leaned down, peering into her face. “You’re not Ventus,” he said softly.

Xion froze.

Vanitas continued, “Let’s see who’s really behind this guise.”

He reached down, laid his hand flat against her face, and it felt like he was ripping the skin from her body. She screamed in agony, no longer having the will to hold back. Vanitas watched coldly, the beginning of a smirk on his face.

Then, it was over, and Xion lay there, crying. Disgust written across his face, Vanitas kicked in her crippled side and growled, “You?”

She swallowed down her sobs and opened her eyes in a last, brave attempt to look at him.

He held a hand out, and the earth rumbled with his words. “You won’t be interfering anymore.”

His hand closed, and the darkness rose in answer. Giving into fear, she fought blindly, struggling to hold onto the pieces of her existence.

But it was in vain, and her body disintegrated as she was dragged back into the void that created her.

* * *

He heard it as a buzz, like a distant swarm of angry bees. Terra glanced behind him, his pace quickening to match his heartbeat. Aqua and Ven stirred as well in response to the noise, but they were no more successful than him in locating its source.

The sound didn’t die, only got louder until finally, he was able to identify it as static. It was an annoying sound that nevertheless, sent chills down his spine. A memory danced on the fringe of his mind, defying his efforts to grab it. There was else to this sound, he knew; he just couldn’t figure out what.

“It’s coming from there,” Ven whispered, pointing at a bench. Keyblade drawn and his hands sparking with magic, Terra crept up to the back of the bench. Swiftly, he pounced, grabbing the wood and peering over it at the seat. All he saw was a small black box from which the static stemmed. He picked it up, bouncing it up and down against his palm. No matter how hard he shook or poked it, the static did not go away.

He flipped it over so that he could see the other side, and spotted the dial.

Then, he remembered.

_A dark apartment. Static from a dead man’s radio. Monsters._

“No!” He threw the radio to the ground as if it had bit him. The intensity of the static coming from the radio was so great that it seemed to vibrate. That could only mean that the monsters were near, and there were a lot of them.

“Terra?”

He grabbed Aqua and Ven by their hands, and pulled them after him.

“Run!” he shouted.

They almost made it down the entire block. It wasn’t too bad at first, just a couple of lying figures lurking on the edge of the fog. A quick toss of Ven’s keyblade took care of them before they were anything other than shadowy outlines. But then, as the second of the monsters fell, a roar split the air, rattling their bones in their sockets. Terra slowed, not willing to stop rushing for the exit, but frightened of running into a monster as well.

But so busy was he with scanning the fog, he never thought to look up.

There was no warning. One moment, he was leading Aqua and Ven to what hopefully was safety, the next, he was screaming in pain as claws dug into his face. The neoshadow was perched upon his shoulders, its claws tearing through the skin dangerously close to his eyes. Ven was yelling at him to stay still, but how could he? Blind instinct overcame him, and he fell backwards against a wall, clutching at his face. It was in that second where he was sliding down the wall, that Ven dove forwards and impaled the heartless right through the chest. Before the dark cloud had even vanished, Ven was casting a Curaga on Terra’s face.

“It’s okay, Terra, I got it off.”

Terra swore, rubbing the side of his face. His sensitive fingertips ran over the raised grooves that had formed from Ven’s botched spell. Terra winced; it was uncertain whether he would be able to get rid of them later. But at least he and Master Eraqus would have matching scars.

“Where did that come from?” Terra asked.

Aqua answered him. “The rooftops. They’ve found us.”

He could hear despair in her voice and lunged forwards, terrified that she was going to do something stupid like run out and try to draw them off. He held her close to his chest, and she let him lead her without a struggle.

There was hardly any fight left in her.

“Come on guys, we got to keep running,” Terra said. “Just keep an eye on the skies this time.”

No longer did they try to hide. They ran down the center of the road, making as much noise as they wanted. He could hear the monsters behind and beside them, though thankfully, they still weren’t in front. But it was only matter of time. He could hear them thundering closer, and every second it seemed, the fog grew fuller with shadows.

The hounds were first. Most of them came from the back, tongues lolling as they chased down their prey. A couple leapt from the sides, and Terra responded by reaching out with hands of darkness, grabbing them, and then tossing them bodily. He would have preferred to kill them, if only to ensure they didn’t get up and pursue them again, but there wasn’t enough time for that.

The ones from the back were getting too close now, only a couple of feet away. Aqua gasped something, too quiet for Terra to hear, but Ven gave her a nod. He stuck his keyblade out and cast a Blizzard spell on the ground, coating it with slick ice. Some of the hounds were unaffected, but others slipped and fell, with others tumbling over their fallen bodies.

They had staved off the attack on land, but now there were still the skies. It wasn’t just ravens that harassed them now, but large raptors with leathery wings and long beaks lined with teeth. For the most part, the cumbersome wings meant that they could hear them before they attacked, but honestly, it didn’t make them any easier to dodge. Or hurt any less. It was always hit-and-run attacks, and always accompanied with sharp pains as they bit or a missed step as they dive-bombed their backs.

They began to slow down as the frequency of the attacks grew and the slower they got, the more monsters arrived. Still, they never did stop moving entirely. They were always inching towards the way out, even if they had to fight through a crowd.

Aqua suddenly screamed Terra’s name, and he turned around to see what had her so scared . . .

. . . Only for his eyes to spy the giant crevice in the ground.

It filled up the entire width of the street, much too wide to jump. Looking into its depths, there was only darkness. There would be no crossing this obstacle.

Terra looked back at the approaching monsters, Ven at his side, and Aqua behind the two of them. But, surprisingly, the monsters did not attack. Instead, they took up positions nearby and waited, forming a semicircle and blocking off any avenue of escape.

Terra swallowed. They were cornered.

The standoff was brief. Steps echoed through the air, slow and measured. The dark form of Vanitas strolled into view, his mask now gone and a smirking face in its stead. Unlike the peacefulness Terra had seen on his face in the church, there was nothing there now except predatory glee and rage. Clearly, he was not impressed by their escape.

“You fought well,” Vanitas said softly. “But the truth is, you never had a chance. Now, I’m tired of playing with you. Will you come peacefully?”

“Never!” Ven snarled.

Vanitas cocked his head to one side. “Have it your way. I’ll drag you back half-alive instead!”

The monsters began to advance, moving in synch like an army. Vanitas stood at the forefront, and summoned his keyblade with a flourish. Together, the apprentices answered and summoned their armour – even Aqua did, although there was no way she could fight. Ven’s Wayfinder, attached to Wayward Wind, shone like a green star, and Terra took his own Wayfinder out of his pocket and clipped it to Earthshaker.

“So,” Ven said, sounding calm even in the face of these impossible odds, “this is our final stand.”

Aqua said nothing, but bowed her head. And Terra, upon seeing his friends ready to accept defeat, did the opposite.

“No, this isn’t the end,” he said. “Not when we’re so close.”

Terra stared over his shoulder at the crevice as he tried to think of a way out. Obviously, standing their ground and fighting would result in them losing; no, they had to flee. But this hole in the ground was too deep to cross by foot.

_Please, someone help me . . . I don’t know what to do anymore . . ._

While Terra mulled over their options, Ven stared at him intensely, watching the despair sweeping over his face. No one noticed, but the younger’s boy face seemed to glaze over, and he stepped backwards, grabbing Aqua firmly.

“Ven?” she stuttered. Hearing her, Terra turned to look at Ven, too.

“This isn’t the end . . .” Ven whispered, voice distant.    

Without another word, Ven backed up, pulling Aqua with him. Within a second, they both stood on the edge of the crevice, with Terra waiting to see what Ven would do next. Vanitas watched them do this, confusion evident in his eyes.

Ven held Vanitas’s gaze.

“You will never have us,” he said.

And with that, still holding tight onto Aqua, he stepped backwards off the edge.

For a moment, Terra was too stunned to move. Then everything caught up to him and with a roar, he leapt into the crevice, arm outstretched towards his friends as the three of them descended into the dark.

Ven looked up at him and barked, “Gliders!”

 Obeying on instinct, Terra copied Ven as he spun upright with his keyblade transforming underneath him. With one arm, Ven kept a hold on Aqua, and brought her to rest on his glider. Ven’s glider barely had enough room for the two of them though, and Terra quickly snatched her away to share his.

“Now,” Ven cried as they began to ascend back towards the surface, “follow me!”

Ven shouted a light spell and to their surprise, it was not just the glider that burned white. His armour changed colours with a brilliant radiance as well, and rays of light shot out in all directions. Tears welled up in Terra’s eyes, but then Aqua gripped his hand. His yellow eyes softened, fading to blue, and then he could see perfectly through the light.

Vanitas and the monsters reeled back, shielding their eyes. Thus, they burst out from the crevice unchallenged. They heard Vanitas order the raptors after them, but they hesitated, fearing the light. Terra knew, without looking, that Vanitas himself had taken off after them, but he was not scared. Their head-start was too great, and with Ven’s light surrounding them, it was unlikely that Vanitas would catch up.

The light drove away the fog. They couldn’t totally see as it was – they still had no idea whether it was night or day – but they could see farther than they could ever see in Silent Hill before. And it was that which spurred them onwards as they flew deeper into the fog.

* * *

The three men stood on the mountainous road, staring at the green sign that welcomed travellers to Silent Hill. It was deathly quiet as each one read those four words, those four words that seemed so harmless, yet had nearly destroyed them all. Like a ghost’s whisper, the town’s name echoed in their minds, low and sinister.

“So, this is it,” Ansem wheezed.

“The way out,” Lexaeus said. “Just beyond this place, and then the fog shall lift. I cannot believe we made it this far.”

“As I said, your God is too occupied with other things.”

Zexion turned his head and peered at Ansem through his bangs. “Will they escape?”

Ansem did not answer that question directly, but said, “They are much stronger than anyone realizes.”

Lexaeus nodded. “Good. Now, let us leave this place, once and for all.

Lexaeus walked down the path, Zexion at his heels. Their steps echoed, steady, sharp, like the ticking of a clock. The fog meant that there was little to see, but Zexion stared straight ahead as if he were beholding paradise. Because really, after this, anywhere would be paradise.

The sign had nearly disappeared into the fog again by the time they realized Ansem was not following. They could see him in the distance, leaning against one of the sign’s posts.

Zexion ran back, his stomach flipping as he saw the unhealthy pallor of Ansem’s skin. “What are you doing?” he asked sharply. “The exit is this way.”

“Ienzo . . .”

Zexion’s whole body seemed to constrict at that word. It was not so much the word itself as the way it was expressed: weak, frail, the murmured prayer of a dying man. His hand clamped down on his father’s shoulder, gripped it hard as words died in his throat.

“The exit is so near,” Ansem whispered. “Go. Don’t falter now. Don’t wait for this old body.”

“You are being ridiculous,” Zexion said coldly. “Stop this nonsense and come with us.”

Ansem stared at him, sweat running down his temples. “I don’t think I can.”

He sagged forwards then and Zexion, unprepared, nearly crumbled under the weight. At first he simply held his father, and then upon seeing that Ansem had little intention of standing up again, began shouting Lexaeus’ name. Lexaeus, who had lingered nearby this entire while, appeared at once.

“Go,” Ansem said again. “Get Ienzo out of here.”

Lexaeus did not move. “Ansem . . .”

“Go, there is nothing you can do for me now.” With each millisecond that Lexaeus stood there, Ansem’s voice grew a little more unhinged. “You promised!”

“I know,” Lexaeus said, “and I intend to fulfill it. But I will not let you die here.”

“No one’s dying!” Zexion hissed. “Stop talking like that!”

They obeyed, Lexaeus scooping up their fallen companion and carrying him in a bridal position. Ansem gave no protest and went limp, his eyes distant and glassy.

They walked into the fog with only the road to guide them.

Time passed, measured only by Ansem’s wheezes and Lexaeus’ whispers of encouragement as he told Ansem to hold on just a little longer. Zexion himself said nothing; the lump in his throat was too big, too hard to force sound past. He walked with his head bowed, too ashamed to look his adoptive father in the eye.

And there was light.

It burst through the fog, shards of sunlight that sliced and hacked away at the dense fog surrounding them. It was blinding, harsh, _warm_ , so far from the blizzards that plagued Silent Hill. The light fell around them, almost in a dome, expanding outwards and pushing the fog back until finally, it simply gave up. The white clouds rolled back towards the town, tumbling over each other before disappearing completely. And it was no longer a fog-covered road they stood on, but one warmed by the sun, with flora all around them and the songs of birds in the air.

“We . . . we did it,” Zexion said in awe. He turned to the other two, expecting to see similar expressions on their faces; he did get it from Lexaeus, but Ansem, well . . .

“Ansem!”

Ansem’s head weakly rolled to the side. His mouth was open, muscles no longer containing the strength to keep it closed. His eyes, too, were open, but only halfway, and their lids fluttered when Lexaeus gently laid him on the ground.

“No, no, look at me,” Zexion muttered. “We’re so close, you just need to fight a little longer . . . Father, please!”

The eyes did not open any further, but some semblance of consciousness snuck into them. Ansem raised a hand, stroked his son’s cheek.

“Ienzo,” he said, “promise me that you will not waste this second chance.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Zexion said. “You’re going to be fine.”

“Promise me, please.”

“You are fine, now stop bothering me with these silly demands.”

“Ienzo . . .”

“I said you’re-”

Lexaeus slapped his hand down on Zexion’s back, stopping him before he could finish. The pair locked eyes, with Lexaeus whispering, “Do it.”

Zexion turned back to his father, who was watching him intensely. “I . . . I promise.”

Ansem’s expression was a hybrid of a smirk, and a smile. It lasted for about a second before giving way to pain.

“I’m sorry,” Zexion whispered.

Ansem’s hand found his cheek again. “Don’t be,” his father said. “You are safe now. That’s all that ever mattered.”

And there, his self-given purpose at long last fulfilled, Ansem finally breathed his last.

* * *

How long had they been flying?

The air was thin up here, and Ven felt frozen to his glider. He rubbed his upper arms, trying to warm the skin through the armour. A little ahead of him, Aqua and Terra clung to Terra’s glider, completely still. Maybe they were shivering under their armour too, but he couldn’t tell.

The sky around them never changed. It was white, thick with fog, as it had always been. If it wasn’t for the air rushing past him, Ven would have sworn that they weren’t even moving, that this was just another illusion set up by the town.

It wasn’t, was it?

“Guys,” Ven asked, “how much longer are we going to keep this up?”

“Until we get out of here,” Terra answered.

Ven chewed his bottom lip, unwilling to spill his doubts. But what if his doubts were right? What if this was just a trap, a way for Vanitas to stall for time?

They continued to fly through the fog. Ven’s spell still shrouded them, protected them and there was still no sign of Vanitas. Ven didn’t know if he just couldn’t catch up to them, or they had finally lost him.

“What do we tell Master?” Aqua asked suddenly.

“However much you guys are prepared to,” Terra said. “Don’t let him force you to tell.”

Ven heard the loathing and anger in Terra’s voice and not for the first time, he wondered what the town had done to his friends.

“And then what?” Ven asked. “Vanitas is still out there, he might come after us again.”

“Then we’ll outsmart him, again.” Terra slowed down his glider, so that he and Ven flew side by side. “I will _never_ let him take you guys away from me.”

Terra reached out towards him. Ven reached out too, and their fingers locked together, shifting to make room for Aqua’s hand as it was added. In that simple gesture was a lifetime of promises and for the first time since this had all began, Ven felt the stirrings of peace.

He blinked, sensing a difference in the air around them. Breaking away from the other two, he shot high into the emptiness of space, laughing joyously. When he looked down at the world he just departed, there were no signs of the fog, or the town. Silent Hill had faded back into the shadows.

“Guys, we did it!”

Ven grinned, racing down towards his friends.

Finally, for them, it was over.


	32. Chapter 32

She was alone in her room, sprawled out on the bed with her sketchbook. So many drawings, so many memories . . . there was so much for her to do. But, with a shake of her head, Naminé ignored those calls, and turned her mind back to her current work. This tale was too important for her to leave unfinished.

Outside, the remains of the dark world died away. Where once buildings had been burnt to the ground, they were now standing again, awaiting the next set of guests. The fog was no longer as thick as it had once been, but the storm was very violent, reflecting its master’s fury. Naminé, safe in her room, surrounded by the light, paid it no mind.

She hummed as her crayon scratched against the paper. Slowly, very slowly, it created three figures. She hesitated, studying them closely, and then her face was enveloped in sorrow. Even though they had bested Vanitas, even though they were _gone_ , they were still here in her drawings.

No one ever truly escaped Silent Hill. Not without leaving a part of them behind.

* * *

Master Eraqus sat at his desk, scanning the contents of a scroll. At least, that was what he would have told anyone who asked. In reality, the words swam in front of his eyes, not registering. His mind was too occupied with the mystery of his old friend’s disappearance, a mystery not even Yen Sid had been able to shed light upon.

 _“I have seen neither head nor tail of him for months now_. _”_ Yen Sid had told him. As it turned out, Eraqus’s knowledge of Xehanort’s last whereabouts was the only clue they had. Thanking Yen Sid for his help, Eraqus had returned to his castle, and now he was waiting for his apprentices to bring him news.

He was optimistic about their findings. They had been gone longer than he had expected, and that must have meant they had a lead of some sort. So, he sat patiently at his desk, awaiting their arrival.

Just then, there was a timid knock on the door.

Eraqus had only just started to speak when the door flew open and Terra barged in. Eraqus blinked, for the first time in his life, too stunned to speak. Terra looked horrible. His hair was matted and stuck to his face from sweat; there were long scars, similar to his own, under his left eye; and his eyes . . . oh, his eyes. They were _yellow_ , dilated with fear and paranoia and Eraqus was so entranced that he didn’t notice Terra move until his hands slammed onto the desk.

“Tell me you didn’t know what was in that world,” Terra rasped.

“Terra, I do not . . .”

“ _Tell me_!”

He froze. It had been a long time since Terra had ever spoken to him like that. “It was a perfectly ordinary world; there was nothing strange about it.”

Terra suddenly slumped, his forehead resting against the desk. Eraqus stood and ran over to his side, fearing that Terra had fainted. But a tap on his shoulder yielded soft moans, and then Terra sprung to life, wrapping his arms around Eraqus and burying his head into his chest like a child.

Terra, the oldest and strongest of his apprentices, the one who always strove to hide his weaknesses, was _crying_.

* * *

Terra had told everything he knew; Ven could tell by the Master’s carefully phrased questions. Ven did his best to answer his Master, to explain his part in this tale, but as time went on, he didn’t understand how Terra could bare his soul like that. There was something private about what he went through, and sharing it with an outsider felt like a violation. There were details he neglected to mention or events he glossed over without realizing, not until Terra pointed it out.

Still, he was doing better than Aqua.

While Ven was reluctant to speak, Aqua simply refused to do so at all. The most she would offer was a murmured confirmation of their stories. In fact, it fell to Ven to even tell the Master that her keyblade had been destroyed. Between him and Terra, they were able to explain most of the things that had happened to her, but there was some crucial things missing – like how she had been possessed by darkness in the first place.

The closer they came to that topic, the more ashen her face appeared. Her hands began to shake, and even Terra’s reassuring whispers failed to make it stop. The older boy sat in the middle of them, gripping Aqua’s hand to the left of him, while his right shoulder touched Ven. Terra seemed to crave the contact and whenever Ven shifted, Terra did too until they were touching again.

The Master tried to press the issue, tried to force an answer out of Aqua. All he managed to do was trigger a panic attack and as Ven heard her breathes grow shallow and short, his own mouth ran dry. Luckily, before he also went into a panic, Terra acted. He draped an arm around her neck, pulling her to him where she grabbed his shirt and refused to let go. Terra didn’t seem to mind, and he spoke to her with a softness Ven hadn’t seen before. But that illusion of gentleness was broken when, over her head, Terra levelled a blazing-hot glare at their Master.

The Master seemed poised to say something, but the word died, half said, when Terra’s eyes suddenly flared yellow. From the side, Ven noticed this absently. Ever since Terra had invaded the church, his eyes had been switching between blue and yellow. It wasn’t that big a deal.

But the Master didn’t think that. He shouted, ordering Terra to get away from Aqua, and he made a move that looked like he was reaching for her . . .

Terra roared. The darkness answered.

* * *

He knocked on Aqua’s door, strangely nervous. At the sound of her voice, he turned the knob and entered, finding her on her bed, wiping a stray tear from her eyes.

“How’s the Master?” she asked.

“He’s fine,” Ven said. “Just needed a few Curagas.”

Aqua bit her lip, and he knew what she was thinking: if she still had her keyblade, she would have been the one to heal him.

“And Terra?”

Ven rubbed the back of his neck. “Honestly, I don’t think he remembers much of what happened. He just said that he remembers feeling really angry.”

She laughed bitterly, sniffling a little at the end. “He needs to work on controlling his darkness.”

Ven jumped onto the bed next to her. “And I quote Terra: ‘ _My darkness is what got us out of there alive’_.”

“I guess he’s right, but . . .” She trailed off into silence, staring at her feet.

“Yeah.” Ven sighed. “But it’s over, right? It’s done.”

She gave him a watery smile. “Yes . . . yes, it is.”

Ven fell into her, and wrapped his arms around her neck. They stayed there, basking in each other’s presence. Yet, despite the peace and tranquillity, things still felt wrong.

Ven could still sense the weakness of Aqua’s heart.

It seemed strong, whole, but when he pushed against it, it crumbled like a paper bag. He buried his face in her shoulder and wondered how long it would take her to recover from this. Could she recover from this?

The hollowness of her heart nagged at him. It would be so easy for someone to take advantage of it, for the darkness to possess her or for Vanitas to take her away. His fists clenched at the thought. _No. Not on my watch._

He reached out with his light and –

He threw himself away from her with a shriek. Aqua jumped back, startled, and before she could ask what had happened, he ran out of her room and down the hall.

What . . . what had that been? He could still feel it in the back of his mind: that primitive instinct that screamed at him to go back, reach out with his light and leave his mark before Vanitas took her away again.

He ran further away from her room, hands clamped over his ears in a vain attempt to drown out the voice that screamed at him to claim her. What was wrong with him? Where had these thoughts come from?

He ran until his lungs burned. Panting, he slumped over with his hands on his knees, fear making it hard to catch his breath. His eyes stared blankly at the floor in front of him, at the shadow that stretched from his feet . . .

Shadows . . .

Darkness . . .

_His darker half . . ._

Memories flashed in front of his eyes. For a brief time, in that church, he had _been_ Vanitas. Their hearts, however much he wanted to deny it, had been one. This possessiveness . . . surely, it was a remnant from Vanitas’s heart. Did that mean that part of Vanitas survived inside him? That he, unwittingly, had invited the monster straight into their home? Ven already knew he had inherited memories from Vanitas.

What else had been passed onto him?

* * *

_Not my thoughts, not my thoughts . . ._

The cool water ran down her face. Slumped forwards, her hands on either side of the sink, Aqua sucked in air greedily, releasing it again in a choked sob. Her fingers trembling, she groped for the mug on the counter next to her, and swiftly raised it to her lips. The coffee burned her throat, but she gulped it down, anyways; she had to stay awake.

She stumbled out of the washroom, and leaned against a wall for support. She was fine. She just had to wait for the caffeine to kick in. Moving slowly, she made her way down the hall towards her room, a little bit stronger with each step.

But all that process was erased as an image made itself known: it was her, under the stars, giving the green Wayfinder to a black-haired boy . . .

“No!” Her shriek ripped the picture to shreds. “ _That didn’t happen!_ ”

She grabbed the sides of her head, sliding down the wall until she was on the floor. Her fingers curled into her scalp, nails digging into the flesh as if they ached to tear out that false memory. He was gone; this was supposed to be over!

But it wasn’t. Every time she closed her eyes, she could feel the darkness pressing in around her. She could feel _him_. Though the medicine Ven gave her was supposed to have chased away the darkness, it hadn’t worked as well as the boys believed. The darkness was gone, but Vanitas lingered, and so did the things he had planted inside her mind. Thankfully, the memories Vanitas had stolen from her had returned once Terra had defeated him, but his false ones still remained.

And she had a suspicion why that was.

In desperation, she ran to her room and tore through her books, looking for some way to break the connection she had made with her Wayfinders. But the books only talked about how deep the love was between people who were bound like that. None of the passages even seemed to consider that a connection could be created through a mistake, that it was possible to be bound to a monster. She screamed and threw one of the offending books at the wall, before quickly cleaning up and leaving before someone came to check up on her.

And so continued her life. Three sleepless days passed before Terra got suspicious. Ven wasn’t, but only because it seemed that he was trying to avoid her. She suspected the Master also noticed her odd behaviour, but was attributing it to her ordeal. There was consent among the men that she was handling things the worst.

On the fifth day, she saw _him_. He was standing in the middle of the hall, just staring at her. She freaked out so badly that Ven and Terra dragged her into the latter’s room. She was forced to sit on the bed, with Terra afterwards pacing the small room and Ven sitting in a chair in the corner, staring at the floor.

“He’s _here_ ,” she slurred, “in the hallway, I saw him!”

“You’re hallucinating, Aqua,” Ven said from his corner. “Lately, it doesn’t seem to be that unusual.”

She frowned at him. “What?”

Ven said, “Remember when you were asking Terra where the coffee was this morning?” She nodded, and he continued. “He wasn’t actually there.”

“And for the record, I hid it,” Terra said. “These hallucinations . . . they’re caused by sleep deprivation, aren’t they?”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But that moment of stuttering was all Terra needed. “When’s the last time you slept?” Terra growled, practically spitting into her face.

“Easy, Terra,” Ven said, causing the older boy to back off.

Aqua shivered, hugging herself. Any answer she gave Terra would upset him.

But it appeared that Terra, that neither of the boys needed an answer. “You’re not leaving this room until I personally see you fall asleep,” he said, with Ven nodding in affirmation.

She tried to reason with them, but they wouldn’t back off; Terra looked ready to pounce even if she just tried to get up. She fought hard, but within a few minutes, sleep beckoned her. The next minute or so was filled with her pleading with her friends, her desperation so great that it brought tears to her eyes.

But despite her efforts, sleep took her.

_And she was back on the streets of Silent Hill._

_It was exactly as she remembered: beaten-down, cold, foggy. With a whimper, she travelled the streets, hoping to find a way out, or failing that, find out why she was here again._

_And she saw_ him _, bent over, straightening up again to drop something in his left palm. His head turned suddenly, his eyes fixing on her. She froze, her legs refusing to move no matter how much she wanted them to._

_Her gaze drifted down his body and to his open hand, and her eyes widened as the true reason for his haunting came to light . . ._

_“It’ll take a while,” Vanitas said, dropping another piece of her shattered Wayfinder into his hand, “but I’ll put it back together.”_

“Aqua?”

_With his index finger, Vanitas traced the curve of one of the larger shards. She shuddered, her heart jolting violently; if felt like he was holding a chunk of it in his hand and squeezing._

“Terra, the drapes!”

_“They can’t keep you from me forever,” he said darkly. “I won’t let them.”_

“Terra, do something!”

“Aqua, wake up!”

It was Terra’s hands on her shoulder that finally roused her. She screamed, not knowing who it was, and her nails drew blood as she clawed at his arms. For his part, Terra bore the pain with only a grimace, concentrating instead on shaking some sense into her.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Terra said, pulling her into a tight hug. “You’re safe.”

Aqua said nothing.

“Well,” Ven said, as he kicked at a shred of what used to be the curtains, “at least we know you still have your magic.”

She blinked, and looked around. Terra’s room had been completely trashed - by magic, apparently. What wasn’t burned had been frozen, or crushed, or electrified. She should feel guilty, she knew, but she only felt relieved instead because maybe, just maybe, it meant that Rainfell would return to her.

“Aqua,” Terra whispered, “what happened?”

The relief was gone to be replaced by horror. She thought she could feel the darkness’ taint deep inside her. What did that mean for her, for them?

All of them jumped when Master Eraqus burst into the room. Breathing heavily, he took in the scene, the destruction. “What happened here?”

All eyes fixed on her, and Aqua couldn’t hold it in anymore. She broke down and cried as Vanitas’s words echoed in her head:

_“You were always my favourite.”_

* * *

In the secret room below the church, Vanitas stared into the void. The Station was supposed to be here, he knew, but Terra had destroyed it.

Terra had ruined _everything_.

It was a strange affection Vanitas felt for him, built both on hate and love. Love, from those earlier days when Vanitas had seen through Ven’s eyes, from a time before anyone in that trio had stepped foot on his world. And hate, suffocating hate born from the reality that Terra had crushed his dreams.

He thought of what he had been so close to achieving, what he had lost again, and thought that just maybe, the hatred for Terra was stronger than the love.

He closed his eyes. His hand, held out, palm up, shut. At the action, a huge shard of glass rose from the depths of the void and shot back to its proper place. Vanitas opened his eyes, face blank. He would rebuild, prepare, and next time, he would be ready.

Because this wasn’t over yet. It wouldn’t be, not until Ventus laid dead by his hand. And then, when that time came, Vanitas would finally claim what – _whom_ \- was rightfully his.

He would make sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who read this story through to its end! 
> 
> Stay tuned for the sequel: Those Who Fight Monsters


End file.
